Room 2469
by We'reTheOnesWhoWrite
Summary: A decade in one room. Kismet brings Rick and Michonne together for the first time and each year their love mounts and expands, unravelling in the scenes of hotel room 2469. From strangers, to lovers, to the altar and beyond, these two soulmates construct a love that will stand the test of time. Success and setbacks, hormones and honesty, promises and pregnancies- the ordinary ups
1. Chapter 1

Starting us off is **CarribeanQueen.** She always finds a way to draw her readers into her stories and makes it hard to turn away. Her version of Rick and Michonne gets you rooting for them from the beginning and that excitement only builds as you read further to the end where it culminates into a wonderful happy ending.

Be sure to check out her other works on her FF page.

 **-We're The Ones Who Write**

* * *

 **Year 1 - The Beginning**

"Andrea, you can't be friggin serious. You can't be sick. We have that conference in Alexandria in two days. If you're sick it means I will have to make both presentations. Plus, what about our weekend?" Michonne asked, somewhat disappointed that the conference they both worked so hard to convince their boss, Negan, to send them to was essentially a bust.

"Damn, Michonne. I'm so sorry that me getting sick is such an inconvenience to you," Andrea croaked out in between bouts of hacking, sounding as though she had lost a lung in the process, or she had been smoking for years.

Michonne immediately felt guilty after hearing her best friend's hacking cough on the other end of the line. "Sorry, Drea. I'll ask Jadis to cancel your reservations and amend mine to return earlier. Send me a copy of your presentation and take care of yourself."

"Mich, you still have to wear that dress to the mixer… you're gonna slay in it. Send me a pic on Snap Chat."

"Drea, that wasn't the plan. We were supposed to wear them together. We'll do it when you're feeling better. I have a little black number that I can wear. Plus, the only thing I need to slay is your presentation."

"You can wear it again when you get home. Your little black number needs a break, Mich."

"Girl, you know you don't sound so sick after all. The conference won't be fun without you and Aaron, and Sasha is still a maybe at best. I'll take them both just in case. Sweetie, we'll catch up when I get back."

Michonne immediately hung up the phone and went to Andrea's office to gather all the paraphernalia she would require for Andrea's presentation on the _Best Practices in Law Enforcement Investigations_. "Jadis, can you please pack up the literature on Andrea's conference table for me? Also, you'll need to swap out Andrea's bio sheets and insert mine into the packages. Please make sure you cancel the extra days we had booked at the end of the conference. Thanks."

…

 _ **The next day …**_

Shortly after lunch on Tuesday afternoon, Michonne left the office en route to the airport. She boarded flight 4029 at two-thirty, seated in row 6-A. During the flight, Michonne used her laptop to review Andrea's presentation. The flight arrived on schedule at Reagan National in Arlington two hours later. She quickly gathered her luggage and hailed a taxi to transport her to the Sheraton Suites hotel in Alexandria.

…

Friday afternoon, Rick and Shane had just returned to the Sheriff's office shortly after lunch. Rick found a post-it on his computer monitor with a cryptic message that said, "See me." He recognized the chicken scratch which passes for acceptable penmanship. It belonged to the Sheriff. He wondered why the summons; nothing unusual happened recently. As a matter of fact, rarely anything ever happened in King County. It was too early for bar fights and picking up the drunk tank denizens.

Shane, who watched his partner attentively spoke, "What the hell, man?

Rick shrugged in response, got up from his chair and walked down the hallway towards the Sheriff's office. Arriving outside the door, he paused and then knocked. "Come in." Hershel's jovial voice answered.

Rick opened the door and entered the room. He remained standing. "You wanted to see me, Sheriff?" He asked. Hershel's hand gestured to indicate that he should take a seat, which he did.

"Rick, my boy, how would you like to represent the Sheriff's Department by filling in for me at the annual Criminal Justice & Law Enforcement Conference up in Alexandria? I can't go because the Missus ain't feeling well, and the County has already paid the costs. It's too late to cancel." Hershel asked the favour and explained his situation, as he watched the young man before him breathe a sigh of relief and scratch his head.

"Dunno, Sheriff. I mean, are you sure I'm the right choice to do this? I'm not the most senior here."

"Son, look around you. When I retire, who do you think will succeed me? It sure ain't Walsh. The County will be overrun with crime because no policing will be done. The husbands will all be trying to kill him for sleeping with their women. It ain't Rhee, who's a fine officer, but he's too timid. The position of Sheriff needs somebody to command. Dixon, well, he's barely civilized, but he deals with the roughnecks real well. Are you seriously, gonna make me talk about Ford? The man's brute strength is the only reason no one has ever reported him and he's got no sense of political correctness whatsoever. The County would go bankrupt from the lawsuits alone. Of the whole lotta you, son, you're the only logical choice."

Rick shifted uncomfortably in his seat after the Sheriff listed all of his co-workers shortcomings. He scratched his head and said, "Well, Sheriff, it doesn't seem like I have a whole lot of options so, yes, I'll go to Alexandria."

"The airline ticket is now in your name. We called the hotel. They said it was not a problem. Just use my name at check-in."

…

On Tuesday afternoon, Rick Grimes, the Sheriff's Deputy, was on flight 4029 heading to Alexandria for a Law Enforcement conference. He was dressed for comfort wearing an Atlanta Falcons cap, a brown tee shirt, black jeans, a brown leather jacket, sunglasses and sporting a five o'clock shadow. He was seated in row 20-A. Upon arriving in Arlington, Rick collected his carry-on and deplaned. He walked through the terminal and exited the airport to wait for a taxi.

…

Both Michonne and Rick took separate cars and arrived at the Sheraton Suites in Alexandria within moments of each other. The bellhop eagerly jumped at the chance to open the taxi door for the exotic beauty inside. Turning herself in preparation to exit the cab, Michonne extended her right leg to the pavement, then collected her laptop satchel and oversized handbag, as she exited the taxi. Her eyes were hidden by the dark shades she was wearing. The bellhop walked proudly beside her, chest out, and pushing the luggage cart with her carry-on. Michonne seemed completely unaware of her effect on the poor youth. Her appearance turned heads as she walked gracefully by with her head held high, the short distance to the entrance where the doorman bowed his head and held the door open for her.

…

Rick was half out of the taxi behind hers when he saw the young bellhop's display and he shook his head, but not before he saw the long, toned, ebony leg in the black pump touching the pavement several meters away. The rest of her body followed suit, and she was indeed gorgeous. He remembered that as a teen, a pretty girl could cause him to suffer from the same affliction the bellboy displayed.

He found himself staring at the exotic beauty but he couldn't help it. She was dressed in business attire, so she wasn't a typical tourist in town for the Cherry Blossom Festival. He secretly hoped their paths would cross again. She wore her hair in dreads which hid the rest of her face. He caught her profile, but her red lips caught his attention as she turned to close the door of the taxi. They were gorgeous, full and luscious looking. He unconsciously licked his bottom lip, imagining just how soft they were. He imagined just what they could make him do. As she walked away he got another pleasant surprise, his eyes roamed over her body only to settle on another fine asset of hers, her very nice ass. He tilted his head and appreciated the view, mesmerized by its movements as though they were beckoning him to follow her. Unconsciously, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he watched her disappear.

Rick shook his head dispelling the images that were beginning to form there. He grabbed his luggage and walked towards the front entrance into the extremely busy lobby where he lost sight of her.

…

Michonne advanced on the counter, after waiting a good ten minutes in the lineup. She pushed her sunglasses to rest on the top of her head as she approached the counter. The front desk clerk, Noah, greeted her with a warm smile."Good afternoon, ma'am. How may I be of service?"

"Hi, Noah. I believe you have a reservation for Michonne Fraser," she said, producing her licence and credit card.

"Ah, yes, Ms. Fraser, I have you staying in a two-bedroom meeting suite. Is that correct? Could it have been an error on our part?"

Michonne took in his slight agitation and tried her best to reassure him. "No, Noah it's fine. I was initially travelling with my colleague who came down sick at the last minute since the hotel was completely booked, we couldn't change the reservation. Don't worry."

"I'm so glad Ms. Fraser. I wouldn't want your stay with us to be unpleasant due to unexpected charges." He quickly checked her in and remit her id, credit card and key cards for room twenty-four sixty-nine. "Please enjoy your stay with us."

"Thank you, Noah," Michonne said collecting her id, credit card and room keys. She returned her shades to her face and walked off in search of the elevator.

…

Rick approached the nervous blonde at the front desk. Her name was Jessie, according to her name tag. "Hi, Jessie. I believe you have a reservation for Hershel Greene, my boss. Well, he couldn't make it so I'll be taking his place." Rick said in his southern drawl, placing his badge and credit card on the counter.

The young blonde was so flustered by his good looks and southern charm that she even forgot to address the guest in the customary fashion. She was lost looking into his dreamy blue eyes that she stuttered and blushed as she retrieved his id and credit card from the counter. She pulled up the name Harrison and registered Rick Grimes in room twenty-four sixty-nine. Jessie then returned his id and credit card to him with a big smile. "Please enjoy your stay with us, Officer Grimes, and should you need anything… anything at all, please don't hesitate to call. I'm on duty until midnight." At that point, she removed her fingers after they grazed his, causing her complexion to colour.

Being a polite Southerner, he bowed slightly, "Thank you, ma'am," he said, collecting his belongings and his room key, then walked off.

…

Rick caught a glimpse of the mysterious beauty, as Michonne disappeared into the elevator. He didn't want to lose sight of her again so he yelled, "Can you hold it, please?"

Michonne complied to the request and returned to checking her messages on her phone. He entered the elevator. "Thank you, ma'am," he said in a pronounced drawl. He was stunned by her indifference towards him, but not deterred. She was going to be a challenge and he welcomed it. She definitely piqued his interest, unlike the blonde at the front desk who practically dropped her underwear at hello.

He then noticed that they were both going to the same floor and considered it a plus. After a few seconds in the elevator, he caught her scent. It was spicy, which seemed fitting. He tried like hell not to stare, being in such close proximity to her, but found it difficult. She was a little shorter than him naturally, but her heels made them the same height. Her petite build made her seem delicate, but he was certain she wasn't a pushover. _Yeah, indeed, he was gonna have to work it for this one._ God knows, he might even have to call Shane. It wouldn't be his first choice to do such a thing, but he'd be damned if he'd let her just walk away. She already demonstrated she was impervious to his best weapon. _Yeah, she definitely was gonna make him work for it._

After what seemed like an eternity, the elevator stopped. He allowed her to exit first because that's what a gentleman would do. As much as he hated parting from her, he loved to see her go because it gave him the opportunity to check out his second favourite part of her. He was still determined to see her with her hair pulled back, and without those shades that obscured what he could only imagine to be an incredibly beautiful face. He checked his room number, and verified the pointers, realizing their rooms were in the same direction. Another plus, as far as he was concerned. He quickened his steps to follow her.

…

Michonne stepped out of the elevator and quickly verified the direction of her assigned room, turning right. She walked down the hall, and was about to swipe her card, when someone stopped beside her. She looked up to find the attractive man from the elevator. She wondered just what the hell he was up to. She was not in the mood for games. She looked at him to say as much, her eyes piercing him, but then she realized she was still wearing her shades. She pushed them atop her head. "Can I help you?" she asked, in a not so friendly manner.

"Oh, pardon me, ma'am. I'm Rick Grimes. I just checked in and it appears we may have been assigned the same room," he said, a bit flustered by her steely gaze. Her chocolate brown eyes held no warmth. It was as he imagined, she was incredibly beautiful, but she was no pushover.

"That's not possible, this room was booked for both me and my colleague who fell ill at the last minute. I just confirmed that with Noah downstairs. It was too late to switch rooms because they were fully booked."

"Do you mind if we go back to the front desk to straighten this out?"

"Sure," she said as she checked her watch and send a quick text to Aaron that she'd be running late.

…

Michonne and Rick both returned to the front desk. Unfortunately, Noah was no longer on duty and they had to deal with Jessie. "Oh, hi, Officer Grimes. What can I do for you?" she asked with a smile on her face, completely disregarding the fact that Michonne approached the counter with him and was standing right next to him.

"Jessie, we have a problem… you see, Ms. …" He looked to Michonne for help.

"Fraser."

"Yeah, as I was saying, it would seem that there's a mix up because both Ms. Fraser and I were assigned the same room. Can you please check for Hershel Greene's reservation?"

After several keystrokes, Jessie announced, "Sorry, Officer Grimes we have no reservation under Greene. You're sure you didn't say Harrison earlier?"

"No, Jessie. I didn't say Harrison. Would you happen to have any last minute cancellations?"

Jessie was embarrassed that her screw up definitely blew whatever chance she had with him. She prayed they had something to offer him, maybe even an upgrade. However, after several more keystrokes, there was nothing. "I'm so sorry, Officer Grimes. There's nothing available and we're at capacity."

Michonne watched the interaction between the two and if it hadn't impacted her it would have been comical. Blondie was totally infatuated with the handsome Officer Grimes, and he was politely incensed with the poor girl. She watched the slight tinge of red in his complexion and him biting that pouty bottom pink lip of his. It was hot. He was completely unaware of what he was doing to her.

At the moment though, from what she could see beneath the brim of his cap, his blue eyes were cold. She could only imagine what they'd look like under different circumstances. He had a strong jawline and a beautiful profile. She wondered what his hair was like under that cap. It was definitely short and being an officer, it made perfect sense.

She had to shake the fantasy from her head after Jessie told him that they had no room, and that she had booked him under Andrea's name. She wondered how that was even possible.

"Officer Grimes, from what I can tell, you were booked under my colleague's reservation. I take it you're here for the same conference I am and, since you're an officer of the law, I don't imagine it would hurt allowing you to use Andrea's room."

"Jessie, since I've essentially paid for the room, would you mind cancelling Mr. Grimes reservation from your system, so the room is not billed to two different people? Thanks."

Jessie finally acknowledged Michonne's presence. "I can do that Ms. Fraser and, as a show of goodwill, we'll be sending you a basket of goodies for your inconvenience. Again, my sincere apologies to both of you," she said, as she hung her head in shame.

…

The two rode the elevator in silence. Arriving outside the room, Michonne swiped her card, and opened the door, pulling her carry-on behind her. Rick followed at a close pace behind.

Inside, there were two bedrooms one on the left, and the other on the right.

The suite was spacious and warm. The common area walls were eggshell. The drapery throughout was navy blue to match the walls of the bedrooms. The doors to the bedroom suites were open, revealing the king size beds draped in crisp white linen, a stark contrast to the dark walls around. On either side of each bed was a nightstand in dark wood to match the bed, a lamp sat on the right side, a telephone and an alarm clock on the other.

In typical fashion, the walls in both the bedrooms and the living area were adorned with paintings of the historic city and a few of which featured the Cherry Blossoms in all their glory.

The living area was situated outside the bedroom on the right. It had two comfortable red armchairs on one side of a mahogany coffee table and a red sofa with striped toss cushions on the opposite side. The window provided a magnificent view of the beautiful historic city. The conference table and chairs were situated just outside the left bedroom. The window overlooked the interior courtyard where the mixer was being held later that evening.

After surveying their surroundings, Michonne announced, "Look, I don't really know you, but I figure since we're both officers of the court we can co-exist here for two nights and three days. However, I do have some work to do before the mixer, hence the meeting suite. I hope you don't mind hanging in your room for a bit. I should be about two hours. Oh, by the way, I get the room with a view."

"Rick Grimes, Sheriff's Deputy at your service ma'am," he said taking off his cap and extending his hand to her.

Michonne found it charming, she extended her hand to his. There was a tiny shock as their flesh connected and they shook hands, but neither seemed concerned. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Grimes. I'm Michonne Fraser; I'm one of tomorrow's presenters."

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Fraser, and I really appreciate what you're doing for me. Thank you. By the way, it's just Rick. Mr. Grimes is my dad."

"Very well Rick, and I'm Michonne." She smiled and proceeded on her way to settle into her room.

…

Shane: So how's Alexandria? Have you met any movers and shakers yet? That link you sent, you sure picked a looker man but she might be out of your league, brother.

Rick: WTF? She's already got a guy… and they're already going at it in her room. We barely got here. She tells me she has work to do and asks if I'd hang in my room. So, I go down to the pool to get in a few laps and I come back upstairs and she's fucking some guy already?

Shane: Woah, back the fuck up, man. You're in her room?

Rick: Obviously not. Pay attention. Big mix up, we were assigned the same suite. There was no reservation under Hershel's name and they are at capacity, so she offers me to stay in the room that was supposed to be her friend's.

Shane: Your lady sure works fast, bro. How do you know they weren't already a thing?

Rick: Don't know.

Shane: Are you sure they're fuckin?

Rick: Well, my ear wasn't up against the door, but when a man is asking a woman if she likes it, behind closed doors… what else could it be? I can't switch rooms the hotel is at capacity. Fuck, I don't wanna hear that all night.

Shane: Don't imagine I would neither. So, make sure they don't.

Rick: Just how the hell do you propose I do that?

Shane: Well, I got to warn you, it can also piss her off enough to up the volume for you or piss her off enough not to do anything.

Rick: So, what is it?

Shane: Tell her that you need your beauty sleep but you'd forego it to join their party. You also might get slapped or a drink in the face so be forewarned.

Rick: At this point, I'll try anythang.

…

Later that night, Rick saw Michonne with a tall man with brown wavy hair and an attractive light-skinned young woman with long curly hair. The women were both wearing little black dresses, but Rick only had eyes for Michonne. He stood off at a distance, watching the trio's interaction, and it was obvious they knew each other rather well. He watched as the man whispered into Michonne's ear and she laughed in response. He hated the display.

…

"Sasha, I'm so happy you and Aaron were able to make it. With Andrea coming down sick I thought I'd be the only one here. This one here shows up an hour ago with these amazing boots he got me. They are simply to die for and he had the nerve to ask me if I like them? Like, does he know me or what?"

"Sweetie, I didn't know for sure and I didn't want to disappoint you. So where are these boots and where are mine?" Sasha asked both her friends.

"Women! God, you weren't even supposed to be here remember? Do I ever get one of you something with no thoughts for the other two? Yours are at home."

"Michonne, where's your roommate? I'm dying to meet him, especially if he's really as cute as you say he is. You don't think he upgraded, do you?" Aaron asked, teasingly.

"How can you upgrade from this?" she quipped. She scanned the courtyard for Rick and eventually found him near the bar. She excused herself and went to the bar. After ordering herself a drink she spoke, "Why don't you come over and join us?"

"Nah, I'm fine. Matter of fact, I think I'll turn in early. Do you mind keeping it down once you and your boyfriend get in? I heard y'all earlier."

Michonne was stunned by what he said. He didn't even give her a chance to respond, he just left her there hanging.

…

The morning went well. Rick left the suite before Michonne was up and about, so she was happy that she didn't have to deal with him. She didn't understand his jealousy. They had barely said two words to each other, and next thing she knew he was accusing her of sleeping with someone. She tried to remember what he might have overheard to misinterpret the situation. Then she thought back to her boots, and Aaron asking her if she liked them. She figured that had to be it. She was working when he left the room, and she didn't know when he got back, but it was obvious that it was when Aaron was in her room.

Later that morning, Michonne successfully delivered her first presentation on Legal Affairs Standards and Ethics. That afternoon, she presented Andrea's topic on the Best Practices in Law Enforcement and Investigations.

During the second presentation, however, she found herself being heckled, for lack of a better word, due to the fact that her audience was primarily police officers; one of whom just happened to be her suitemate. He seemed to relish leading the pack. In concluding her presentation, she looked directly at Rick and pointedly said, "Remember, the most important thing in an investigation is to always follow the evidence. Sometimes something may seem to be the obvious answer, but In reality, it couldn't be further from the truth. If I leave you with nothing else today, don't stop at the first convenient answer, because it's often not the truth." The room applauded the conclusion of her presentation, and she collected her belongings and left the room.

Shortly after arriving in the suite there was a knock at the door. She answered it to find a bouquet of fifteen red roses. The delivery procession continued at thirty-minute intervals followed by bouquets of carnations, hyacinths, tulips, and finally, an Orchid.

Michonne was wondering where he was, and why he hadn't return, when she heard the door open and he walked in.

"About last night, Michonne, I'm sorry. Can I take you to dinner to make it up to you?"

"How dare you? I didn't know you, but I offered you shelter. You don't know me, but you accused me of being with someone and then you get mad at me? When did we suddenly become exclusive, Rick?"

"I'm really sorry. I was an ass. Please let me make it up to you. Dinner?"

"I have plans, but you're welcome to join us if you'd like. We'll be in the courtyard later," Michonne added as she left the room.

…

That night Michonne wore her little red dress with cap sleeves, a fitted bodice and an aline-skirt, falling mid-thigh, together with her new over the knee boots. As requested, she sent a snap to Andrea who immediately asked who she was planning to slay that night. Michonne replied 'long story'.

…

Both Sasha and Aaron noticed that despite their friend's searing hot appearance her mood was in a funk. After discussing her sour mood with them, they both thought she was being way too serious and laughed at the comical situation. They were of the view that she should just get him out of her system, because he had obviously gotten under her skin. Their solution to her problem? "What's one night? It's not like you'll ever see him again anyway."

Later that evening, Michonne and her friends were dining in the courtyard when Rick appeared. He was scanning the place for her when Aaron noticed him. "I think your lost puppy just showed up. He is damn fine too. Michonne, if you don't sleep with him I would and I'm sure Sasha would too."

Sasha followed their eyes and wiped her lips, "Girlfriend, I love you, but I could love him more."

Rick eventually joined them, introductions were made and they ate dinner together, but the tension between them was still there.

Several drinks and shots later, the four were enjoying themselves.

Both Rick and Michonne kept eyeing one another. He was enthralled by her outfit. And the boots? Well, they just put it over the top for him. He knew he had to have her in that getup. He took a sip of his drink. He wasn't about to screw up tonight.

Eventually, Michonne took Aaron to the dance floor because she knew it would get to Rick. After a few songs, a slow song came on and she put her arms around his neck. Aaron played the game, lowering his head and whispering in her ear. "Are you trying to get me killed? You want each other… just do it."

Rick watched the display before him and knew she was goading him. It was payback for what he'd done so he took it. However, when the second slow song started, he walked over to them and tapped Aaron on the shoulder. Aaron ceded his place, and Michonne was finally in his arms.

Then, Niall Horan's ' _Slow Hands'_ started. He really liked the song the first time it played, so much so that he slipped the D.J. a fifty to play it again. It was like they were talking to one another through the lyrics. "We should take this back to my place," she whispered in his ear and that's all the invitation he needed. Rick took Michonne by the hand and forged his way through the crowded courtyard. He was on a mission to close the deal, before she changed her mind.

When they were on the elevator alone, their hands were talking and their faces were connected. The song also played in the elevator too, it was a sign. Their hunger had ignited and needed to run its course; there was no stopping it now.

The two stumbled through the door, shutting it behind them. Rick's hand was on her waist, pinning her to the door. The other cupped Michonne's face, as he captured her soft luscious lips. He kissed and tugged on her bottom lip, then kissed her again urgently. She replied, granting access as their tongues collided, tasting the other as they moaned. The spicy scent of her perfume, and her moans, fueled his desire.

The hand at her waist now grabbing her ass, and slid torturously slow beneath her hemline, only to make its way up again. His fingers hovered over the scanty patch of wet lace covering her heated core. He ran his fingers over the lace rubbing her sex, which caused her to arch her back in search of more. "Please!" she begged. No further encouragement needed, he slipped his fingers beneath the fabric tracing up and down her slick swollen lips as Michonne bit her bottom lip. Her lust laden chocolate eyes burned into his hooded blues. His fingers then slipped into her heated core, causing her to gasp. Her back arched and her hips undulated against his fingers as his thumb pad strummed her clit.

Michonne guided his mouth back to hers and they kissed passionately as his fingers coaxed her to her first orgasm that night, against their hotel door. She cried, "Oh God," as her body quivered from her orgasm and she tried to regulate her breathing.

A smile tugged at his lips, satisfied that he brought her to a crumbling mess. He then rid her of the piece of lace, because he wasn't done with her yet.

Michonne held onto him as he lift her up. She was now straddling his hips and he was ravishing her neck causing her to moan. She was intoxicated from his scent, a mixture of his cologne, musk and soap. She felt his member straining between them. The hand around his neck found its way into his silky soft curls as he walks further into the in his room, he let her down in a standing position before him. She unbuckled his belt, and unzipped his pants as she bit her lip. After freeing his cock from its confinement, she held onto it, causing him to inhale. The pre-cum was already dripping from it, so she palmed it and pumped her hand up and down his length watching him as she acquainted herself with it.

He drew a sharp intake of breath as she took a hold of his cock and began pumping it. He knew if she continued like that he wouldn't last much longer. Ridding himself of his shirt, her hand splayed on his defined chest teasing his nipples. "Turn around and bend over, Michonne."

This surprised her. She was still fully dressed, but she liked the authority in his voice so she complied, leaning forward with her knuckles pushed into the bed. She could only imagine the visual he was getting.

Rick took a minute to enjoy the view of her perfectly round naked ass and her hot pussy peeking out from under her little red dress, with her long legs in those boots of hers. The visual caused his manhood to throb painfully. He walked towards her and fingered her some more and they both moaned. She was soaking wet and tight. He pumped into her a few more times, causing her to push back and grind, searching for more friction. "Please…" she whined as he withdrew his fingers. Without warning, he held onto her hips and impaled her. "Fuck… you feel fuckin incredible, Michonne." He groaned from the sheer delight of finally claiming her, then pulled out leaving only his tip inside.

Michonne wiggled her ass to get more of him to fill her up, and he relented, picking up his speed, thrusting deeper into her core each time. With her encouraging moans, he hit her spot over and over. Her walls contracted around him, as her orgasm shattered, and several thrusts later, his body tightened. His explosion was followed by a guttural moan.

…

The next morning, Michonne woke up to find herself in his bed. Her arm across his chest and his hand grabbing her ass. She discreetly extricated herself from him, collecting her dress and boots and returning to her room. She showered, dressed and left the hotel, en route to the airport.

…

Rick awoke to find her gone. He wasn't too worried because he knew she wouldn't be too hard to find, given the fact that he was based less than two hours away from her.

After showering and dressing, he was about to leave the room, when he noticed the piece of black lace he had discarded the night before. He picked it up and sniffed her scent, then shoved it in his pocket. _I guess I'll have to return this._

…

Arriving at the airport, Michonne had just missed the last morning flight to Atlanta. The next available flight was at one forty-five. She checked in, and then took out her laptop to pass the time.

Shortly after, Rick arrived at the airport and also checked-in for his flight home. He disappeared to grab something to eat. Forty minutes later they were making the last boarding call for flight 844. Rick just made it in time. He was sitting in seat 10-B. He secured his carry-on in the overhead cabin and sat down. The dark-skinned woman next to him was wearing a floppy sun hat pulled down over her face and oversized shades. She was obviously trying to conceal herself but the perfume she was wearing was now a part of his makeup. The scent was ingrained in his was seated next to him in 10-A. The whole scenario caused him to chuckle. "Good afternoon, Ms. Fraser," he said, barely able to contain himself from dying of laughter.


	2. Chapter 2

Bringing in Chapter 2 is **Sophiasown**. She was given one of the most special years in this journey, and who better to document this forever memory than a time tested, reader approved writer like her. Sophia doesn't only do fluff and romance, but when she does, she does it really well.

Be sure to check out her other works on her FF page.

 **-We're The Ones Who Write**

* * *

 **The 2nd Year - Lets Get Married**

Everything felt the same yet different as they stepped into the Sheraton Suites that cool Friday evening. Same in the sense of the familiar surroundings of the heavily trafficked lobby where seeing Michonne for the first time had rendered him off balance and forever changed. Her radiant beauty and alluring figure caused him to be an easily surrendered prisoner in her captive.

It was different _now_ because he was no longer admiring her from behind like an out of reach dream as she sauntered into the foyer.

He was presently holding the soft hand of the same beauty at his side as they returned to the special place that had been the catalyst to their encounter. What a difference twelve months made? They were celebrating a thrilling year of being in love and making a go at a real relationship. They were the type of couple that were big on memories, it was only fitting to return to Alexandria to celebrate in style.

Michonne insisted they return to where it all began; room 2469. Without the mix up of bookings they may not have been together today. Although Rick swore he knew his heart would've made a way to her because soulmates always find each other.

They were given the keys to their special room and Rick had a mischievous grin on his face, knowing the genesis of their status was their own private joke. With the life changing things he had planned this weekend it would be nice if they could make this trip an annual event.

It had been a rush to the airport after ensuring Michonne left work on time as she promised. He knew she was handling a heavy workload at her firm in high hopes she would be considered for a more senior position once something opened up. With her Ivy League education and her drive for success it was almost guaranteed she would make partner in the not too distant future. He too had taken on more responsibility at the precinct. Hershel was insistent that he groom him for the bigger things ahead certain he was going to be Sheriff soon. A successful career was big on both of their agendas. They were both doing all that was needed to be where they wanted to be to ensure a secure future for them both. Thinking of the future is what held sway over his thoughts over the past few weeks. He was sure Michonne was the one for him, she had sovereign rule over his heart. He was irrevocably tied to her. She was his world and he was certain a million years from now he'd still be loving her. He had everything planned and nothing was going to get in the way of making this getaway one of the most memorable nights of their lives.

"I'm starving." Michonne stated as she toed her Jimmy Choo pumps off her aching heels and looked at Rick expectantly. He seemed to have everything under control this weekend and wasn't giving her the slightest hint on what was on the agenda or even how to dress. One thing she knew; she was going to wear the red floor length romper she had bought a few weeks ago in anticipation of this weekend. She decided if they were going to make this Hotel visit a tradition then wearing something red would be her _thing_ for all future stays in commemoration of the first time.

He turned to her with a grin plastered on his face almost like he was bursting to share something and took her hand, bringing her into his secure hold.

"Hi." A simple word, spoken with his deep voice and her body was already on high alert. It had been a hectic, tortured week where they only got to see each other twice. Relying on phone calls and facetime to keep some form of connection between them. His blue eyes held onto her soul as though he was seeing her for the first time. After a full year of falling in love and being there for each other, they still had the power to do so.

"Hi." She replied, plowing her hands into his lustrous, silky curls. His head dipped and the kiss that ensued caused them both to stumble. They were both hungry for each other. It had been four days since the last time they made love. She missed him something fierce but the naughty part of her was glad they weren't able to connect intimately. Not that they had a problem in that area but perhaps they would both be uninhibited and free to express and explore the need for each other unencumbered by work or the untimely demands of life.

"Wait..wait..wait." He was reluctant to stop her greedy hands as they sought refuge inside his pants, but if they got carried away now the whole evening would be thrown off. He was a weak man when it came to the Goddess in his arms. His resistance to her charms was already low as he felt a thickening inside his boxers.

"We have somewhere to be in twenty minutes. Then dinner reservations. We need to be out of here by seven" He held firm to his resolution even as he saw the cute pout of her lips at being denied even a taste of him.

"Gimme five minutes out of that twenty Rick." She was bargaining and stuck her full cleavage out a bit as an added insensitive. She missed him.

"Tonight isn't about rushing babe. Tonight is all about savoring every moment with each other. Now Git!" He turned her around and aimed her in the direction of the bathroom with a soft slap to her firm, round behind. Not to be out done she stripped right away and stepped out of her black skirt and chiffon shirt, remaining in her wine color bra and thong set. Giving her boyfriend an eyeful as she stepped inside the clean shower.

Rick plopped on the bed second guessing his resolve at denial. He was contemplating joining her in the shower when his phone rang, Dale Horvath's name appearing on the screen as a reminder that he had big plans to attend to.

Really. Big. Plans.

… **.**

Rick knew Michonne preferred the simplistic enjoyment of local talent over the sometimes exaggerated pieces on show at popular galleries. She loved dissecting history as much as she loved investing her time enjoying art. However his girl wasn't into simulations; like seeing a robot talk or a Jurassic come to life. She wanted to feast her eyes on something honest and solid. People always had stories to tell through their gifts. The humane, rich journeys of regular folks quenched her thirst for soulful connections. She panted at the introspection of a painting of a lone willow tree surrounded by a beautiful landscape created by a girl who missed the land she grew up on. She enjoyed pieces where the tale behind its origin was deep and impactful. Rick surmised she was like the art she loved; a beautiful canvas of thoughts and emotions and a masterpiece in his eyes.

It was why he struck gold with a quaint art gallery not too far from the Hotel. He didn't know if it was pure luck or destiny pushing his plan perfectly in place when he stumbled upon Dale Horvath. Dale was the owner of _Cherokee Rose_ ; a place for arts and craft exhibits created by Alexandria locals. He and Rick had hit it off from the get go, so when he informed him of his course of action Dale was too happy to oblige him.

He was a friendly man with a weak spot for young love. Dale had recently lost his wife of forty years and was all too keen on the importance of cherishing every moment with the one you love. Rick had paid a small price to have the place all to themselves for an hour. He was in disbelief when Dale informed him the theme of the month was _love_ and the pieces hung on the walls in full display all had a telling narrative behind them.

From the time Michonne saw the name on the small building she flashed a grin to Rick, realization of where he had taken her setting in.

Dale was there to greet them upon arrival and kissed Michonne on both cheeks after introductions were made. She couldn't keep her eyes off the light grey walls in the small showroom that held beautiful paintings and the clear glass tables that supported a few abstract figurines crafted to objective perfection. A particular multi coloured, paper mache cat grabbed her attention on sight. The dexterity of its artistry already etched into her mind.

"Please. Don't let me keep you. You kids have a wonderful evening." He gave Rick a thumbs up as he slipped behind a private door.

"Rick….this place is amazing. The talent oozes off the wall. How did you…?" She was curious as to when and how Rick organized the private viewing but she was thrilled beyond measure all the same. He slipped his hand into hers and slowly walked to the first piece. He had appointed himself her enamored tour guide for the evening

Michonne was a vision to behold in her full length red romper ; her figure was slender yet curvaceous with its long sleeves and deep V cut at her breast, highlighting her enticing cleavage. He had been a thirsty man as soon as she came out of the bathroom wearing the sexy get up. The red material sat like a blazing fire against her rich dark skin. It hung close on her body like a protective lover, her sleek and sexy shape visible with every twist and turn she made. He didn't realize he began humming the tune to Chris De Burgh's _Lady In Red_ when his eyes first feasted on her. The sentiment held, she was his lady in red and there was no place he would rather be.

His chest puffed out in pride as they walked the marble floor of the lobby; he was with Michonne Fraser, the sexiest woman in the world.

"Babe…?" She broke his daydreaming and he refocused his nervous attention on her again.

"I made friends with Dale. It's just you and me tonight. I know you love these things. Happy Anniversary baby." He kissed her chastely on her lips, controlling his inner thirst for more. They walked to a black and white painting of a couple kissing on the beach under an illuminated moon and studied it briefly.

She leaned into his ready embrace observing the silhouette of the lovely couple. "Thank you." Her words were soft as she appreciated how well Rick knew her. He had the ability to tell her things she didn't even realize about herself. She felt secure in their love knowing her heart rested on something real.

They segued to the ten or so impeccable paintings as time passed. The intimate Gallery located in the East side of Alexandria smelled like cappuccinos and paint and the soft indie music playing in the overhead speakers set a nice melodious backdrop to the special evening. They had finally arrived at the painting Rick had chosen to show his hand. His fingers burned in his pocket as his nerves bit at his skin like he had been burnt by a cigarette butt.

"This is interesting." Michonne said as she squinted her curious brown eyes to get a better view of the imagery before them. The artiste who held the name D.H had fashioned a detailed illustration of a two story house. It wasn't enormous in size or splendor but the intimate trimmings on the windows and the screened in front porch told the tale of the people who lived there. A green weathered turf covered the perimeter of the front yard, a swing set stood on the lawn waiting to be used. A garden hose lay still on the ground, the red roof held the bright spot in contrast to the white picket fence that surrounded the home.

She sighed deeply, it looked like _home_ , when home was more than mindless television and instant meals. It was the kind of place she could see in her and Rick's future.

"I love this Rick."

He pulled out a leaflet from his pocket ready to jump off a cliff. He cleared his throat and began, "According to this, this painting has a sweet story behind it. The name of the piece is called _Lover's Nest._ The painter promised his wife on the first day they met he would build her a house if she agreed to marry him one day." Michonne grinned as her interest peaked with the already romantic story.

Rick continued before his courage ran out. "She told him she would marry him only if they build it together. He wanted nothing more than to share a home with her. So he started right away and in one year although it wasn't perfect, the house was built by them and they were married. They had four kids in this house. All grew up to be architects and artists. They were married for forty years." He swallowed visibly in wait of her response.

Michonne's hand reached up to her chest as she thought about the sweetness of it all. She wanted the painting.

Without a stutter Rick continued. "Michonne, this house reminds me of us. We're not perfect people. I tell corny jokes. You snore in your sleep. You're red wine and I'm white but we love each other. This past year has been the best year of my life with you by my side." She was tearing up at his expressive sentiments but her heart dropped to her knees when she saw him get down on one of his.

He pulled out a blue velvet box and opened it, a vintage solitaire diamond in a semi-bezel setting of white gold caught all her attention. Her jaw extended in disbelief, in awe, in love. She searched for her lost voice as she watched Rick take her in with his baby blue eyes almost transparent under the glow of the lamp above them.

"It would make me very happy if you would be my wife. If you say yes then I promise you I will always be true to you and you alone. I'll always protect you. And like this painting on the wall I want you to know I'll build us a house one day. We'll share a home together Michonne but your home will always be in my heart. So what d'ya say?" The ring was in his hand, his heart was in his stomach yet he knew what her response would be.

"Yes." She said without hesitation because what would her life be worth if she didn't spend the rest of it with Rick Grimes. He rose hurriedly to meet her lips, their kiss lapsed over into a loving embrace just before he slipped the sparkly diamond on her finger.

"This is why you couldn't share your plans? You had this all planned?" She was still beaming as she admired the ring on her hand.

She was an engaged woman. Rick saw her worth and proved it with his actions. He felt like a school boy trying to contain his blush but he was just so happy in that moment that he couldn't help himself. "Yeah I did. But believe it or not the gallery and the theme tonight was just fate." His grandmother would call this kismet and he was buying into it. He and Michonne were certainly meant to be.

"You happy?" He stroked her bronzy highlighted cheek softly.

Still flashing the biggest grin she nodded, "This is the happiest day of my life." It would be one of many to come she was sure. Visions of a large house and curly haired kids danced in her head. She was giddy at the thought, she had found a man that made her feel excited to live.

"What else you got planned?" She asked holding onto him. She had an urgent desire to be close, so she slid her hands inside his blazer jacket and he circled her small waist with his to tighten their connection. Their bodies were pressed so closely together she could feel his balanced heartbeat against her chest.

"Well we have dinner reservations at a new restaurant in about -" He checked his watch, "fifteen minutes." He was right on schedule.

"Rick….the only thing I'm hungry for right now...is you." Her lusty eyes said it all even before her lips moved.

"Let me get Dale." He didn't hesitate, they had been delayed and denied enough for one night. Why have dinner when he could feast on his woman's body?

Dale slipped out of the private office in time. He stepped to them and gave his congratulations. He was certain Michonne would say yes just by the way she looked at Rick upon their arrival.

"I hope you two have a long, happy life together."

"Thanks Dale. I appreciate everything you did here." Rick guided Michonne to the door as she took another longing gaze at the rainbow cat. Something about it drew her like a magnet.

"Some words of advice before you go. Listen to what each other have to say. Don't listen to respond. Listen to understand. That's how my Cynthia and I did it and we had forty wonderful years together and four beautiful kids. I wish you two the same." There was a bittersweet glint in his eyes as he remembered his wife.

"You built her the house? You painted the picture of it." Michonne smartly deduced the origin of the house that would forever mark this perfect night.

Dale blushed til his cheeks turned red, his secret was out.

His white eyebrows held high as he said, "Guilty."

"It's beautiful. Your wife was a lucky woman."

"Thank you."

"Dale is that cat for sale?" Rick saw Michonne looking at it adoringly all evening. He knew he couldn't leave without negotiating a price for it.

"It is. You want it?"

"Rick…." She looked at him expectantly and tittered knowingly.

"I know you've been looking at it since we walked in. I'm getting it for you. Consider it an anniversary gift." A smile played on his lips seeing her excitement build at the prospect of owning the delicately crafted cat.

"It's just too damn gorgeous. Thank you." He pulled out his checkbook as he justified a price in his head.

"No money needed. My gift to you." Dale was in a giving mood, seeing how much this beautiful couple loved each other. Michonne kissed his cheek in gratitude.

Rick shook Dale's hand as they left. They were both ready to continue on with their special night.

… **.**

She stood in the middle of their suite as she reminisced on Rick's proposal. She was itching to call Sasha to share her news but this night was all about her and Rick. She would gush to her girlfriend tomorrow about the perfection of her fiance.

He returned to the room with a celebratory bottle of champagne and placed it on the oak desk next to the single wicker chair. She had taken off the over head brightness to keep the romantic tenor that had been set since they arrived. The two club floor lamps that looked as though they were straight out of Crate and Barrel were lit and set a dim glow in the quiet room. The low hum of the air conditioning was a comforting sound. While the room itself had undergone some transformation within the year they hadn't been there it was a perfect reflection of her relationship with Rick and how things had metamorphosed between them.

He crossed the floor and took her in his arms. The purchase of the bubbly took ten minutes but it was too long to be away from her presence. She had long since taken off her wedged sandals, he looked down into her brown orbs and they pulled him in further.

He couldn't resist, he took her lips passionately. He felt her hands around his neck and soon they crawled their way into his curls. She tugged them and the feel of her need for him as their lips and tongue danced frantically together broke his restraint. He looped her legs in his arms and he stood with her legs around his waist as his hands roamed her upper back. She smelled like peaches and cream and his dick jumped at the taste of her heated mouth.

"I want…." Her words were lost. His tongue remained fighting for dominance with hers as he squeezed her ass in his hands. He could tell she wasn't wearing any underwear and the stiffness in his pants grew unbearable. He walked to the bed still unable to separate from her curvy body and laid her gently down.

"Take off all your clothes. All I wanna see you wearin' is that ring on your finger." He felt possessive, the fact she had agreed to marry him filled him with gratification. She belonged to him as much as he belonged to her and now the whole world would know it too.

She was the fire in his veins, the air in his lungs. She was the very thing that made his heart beat. He knew he was a lucky man.

She shed her romper in one quick fluid motion. He was right, she wore no underwear besides her plunge bra. His jaw tightened at the sight. His slipped off his shirt and dockers pants along with his boxer briefs and joined her on the bed. His determined fingers sought her heat first and he was greeted with her slickness. Her legs fell apart in shaky anticipation knowing his lips would soon follow. He guided her further up the crisp white sheets as he stationed himself between her well toned legs.

Naked before him she was an intoxicating view. His dick pressed into the sheets as he tried to control the urge to plunge into her right then and there. He wanted to ravage her, she was teasing him to the point of madness with just the seductive glint in her eyes. He kissed the lips of her pussy, guiding his tongue inside. She rewarded him with a soft mew and a tug on his curls again. He didn't have to look, he knew her eyes were closed as she trusted him to take her to a place of uninhibited pleasure.

His tongue plunged further in exploration of her moist heat.

"Oh God Rick….." her words fell away as pleasure took her by force. Rick's tongue was plunging in and out of her incessantly. She felt like she was being bulldozed in the best way. She clutched the sheets, timid as her release stood not to far off beckoning her to ascend to the heavens. He paused in his ministrations to look up at her, not abandoning his task completely as his fingers replaced his lips. His breath hitched as his eyes landed on her face, her beauty was breathtaking under the low cast light.

"That feels good baby? You gonna come for me?" she was lost in a sea of pleasure as his fingers skillfully stroked her bud and fingered her hurriedly.

"Yesss Rick, I'm gonna come for you." She raised slightly of the bed. She was uncertain if she was running away from her apogee or if she was chasing after it prematurely. There was no time to think it through, her release caught her in a frenzy of spasms that left her feeling boneless and breathless.

Rick kissed his way up to her face, her inner thighs, her navel, the underside of her full breasts, then her collarbone until he reached her sated face. He kissed her lips allowing her to taste herself on his tongue. She explored the highway of his back with her hands, her body still humming from her orgasm.

Rick was muscled and chiseled in all the ways a man should be. He had the ability to make her feel safe and protected in his strong arms. He looked into her eyes as he hovered over her, pushing her legs apart again with his knees. He had all intentions of making love to her.

His erection pressed against her leg and she felt the steel of his arousal. She felt herself getting wet again and she knew she was ready for him. She touched his face adoringly as she spoke to him in a whispered tone.

"You remember that night after Glenn's birthday party? I wanna do that." They were inebriated from the wine they had that night, but they were high on each other. Which gave them a proliferation for the exploration of each other's bodies. The lust in his eyes and the steel of his dick intensified at the mental images brought about by her seductive request. The visual was already taking his breath away.

"That's what you want? Get on your knees baby." He guided her gently as she rose on all fours. He spotted her peeking over her shoulder as he positioned himself at her entrance and took her from behind. Her ass dug into him and the slight shake almost made him peak. There wasn't time for him to ruminate on the effects her tempting body had on him as she pushed back into him.

He thrusted forward and brought his hand around to squeeze her breasts. Her nipples pebbled under the touch of his multi-talented fingers. She was panting deeply as they moved in tandem. He reached down and rubbed her slit. She was aching to be touched there, the double sensation of him inside her and the frenzied rubbing of her pink pearl always sent her over. Rick was able to read her body's desires even without uttering a single word. He more than possessed her body, he possessed her soul too.

"God Michonne, you're ass is so sexy! Your pussy feels so nice and tight baby." She reveled in the way his southern accent grew thicker when he was turned on. She felt like patting herself on the back knowing she was the only one who had the ability to do so.

"Yeah? You like seeing my round ass bouncing on your dick Rick?" She was almost ready to plunge into the abyss. Her sweet nectar dripped on his fingers as he continued to stroke her hard and fast.

"I love it when you talk like that." In their bed there was nothing stopping them from vulnerability. There was no room for shyness. They were free to express themselves. He thrusted again into her, faster this time, almost to the timing of a rattling drum. His stroke was resonant with depth and control she couldn't get enough off.

"I can't hold it anymore baby. Knowing you're gonna be my wife. Seeing you like this…..I'm gonna come." The sensation had been a fast but steady build. He felt her cry out first as she juiced his hand and he followed behind her as his orgasm held him in a blind stupor.

Michonne was still shaking as he withdrew from her and collapsed to her side. She fell on her back next to him, they were both trying to catch their breaths. He grasped her hand and kissed it.

"I love you Michonne." He wanted every anniversary they shared to get this life altering, soul shaking experience.

She turned to him and touched his cheek, a sheen of sweat had settled over them both. "I love you too Rick. Always."

"Good because I have a question for you." He needed an answer because it was an urgent request. He saw it as a complete dereliction of duty if he let the thought linger in his head without voicing it.

"Mmmhhmm?" She was about to fall asleep, he left her body satiated but she kept her eyes open to await his question.

"How soon can I make you Mrs. Grimes?"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 is brought to you courtesy of **Kendrawriter**. Kendra is a word artist, able to craft and mend a story that weaves so well, you'll be lusting for more. She not only draws her readers in with plot and dialogue, but keeps them there with her intricate storytelling that leaps off the page, having you turn for the next word.

Be sure to check out our her works on her FF page.

 **-We're The Ones Who Write**

* * *

Chapter 3

 _ **The third year - Newlyweds**_

"Mrs. ..." Rick's soft growl was followed by a lingering, tender kiss against the smooth skin of his new bride's exposed neck. Michonne shivered.

"Michonne..." Another kiss, a little lower along her collarbone, as he enveloped her in his strong arms. She felt his slow smile spread, sending tiny electric shocks across the miniscule hairs on her skin. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, her fingers troweling his hair.

"Grimes..." He closed his eyes and breathed her in, exhaling with satisfaction. He was finally able to say those words. _Mrs. Michonne Grimes._ His wife kissed the corner of his forehead along his hairline and tightened her grip on the thick, satiny curls at the nape of his neck.

"I love the way you say that." She confessed, hugging him close enough that he could feel the beaded peonies peppering her torso through his cool, white shirt.

"I love the way it sounds." Rick drawled in answer, forgetting all about the elevator he'd called for them, his focus only for her. "I love _you_."

He didn't think it was possible, but he was more in love with her than ever.

The sun was going down on a semi-busy Sunday at the Sheraton Suites Hotel in Alexandria, with guests passing through on business or to join the typical spring tourism rush. Most of the people roaming around in the lobby gave the bride and groom their space as they stood by the bank of elevators waiting for one that would take them up to their honeymoon suite for the weekend. Only a few pairs of eyes outright stared at them swaying together in their own little world as if still hearing the music from their first dance as husband and wife.

"Love you, too." Michonne sighed, tired but happy. Her feet hurt and she'd been up since six that morning, but she was happy. Stupidly happy. And tipsy. "But there had better be chocolate or something sweet up there. I wasn't done with my cake."

"You mean your _third_ slice of cake?" He winked at her, loosening his hold on her just enough to run the pads of his fingers along the embellishments of her skin-tight gown, something he hadn't stopped doing all evening.

 _What an evening._ They'd been riding an untouchable high all day, both of them smiling from ear to ear at everything and nothing. They'd both been transformed into giddy teenagers all through the service at the baptist church on Alfred Street, their dance, the bouquet toss, the rice, all of it. And then Rick grabbed her hand after saying goodnight to their small band of friends and family and stole away with her. She'd been delighted when they took the short, familiar ride over here in the limousine, sipping on champagne and laughing together like fools in love.

Rick stood there swaying her in his arms, taking her in up close, never tiring of the sight since she joined him on the altar that morning. She always liked Rick's eyes on her, and every shade of blue they revealed.

Even when he was still just a stranger, his slow, confident grin and lingering gaze never failed to coax responses from her in ways she didn't expect.

"Can you believe this? We're _married_ , Michonne." Rick whispered to her, looking dashingly handsome in his tux. Tonight he was a classic movie star with his dark, longish hair combed back from a clean-shaven face that put his deep dimples and captivating blues on full display.

Michonne shook her head at him and his ridiculous good looks. "I gotta admit, I didn't really think past ' _he's kind of an asshole, but he's so damn good looking'_..."

He threw his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing with laughter as he drew her in closer to him, remembering his knee-jerk jealousy, relentless questions, and slick moves that first year.

"Okay, I guess I deserve that one."

Rick thought back to that year and how, from the moment he met Michonne Fraser, the sexy, confident attorney from Atlanta, he felt drawn to her, compelled to try to keep her attention. There was no choice. She was it.

"It was all part of my master plan to make you Mrs. Michonne... _mmm_...Grimes…" Rick leaned in again and kissed his way from Michonne's jawline to her heart-shaped mouth, latching onto her bottom lip, uncaring if he kissed off her perfect scarlet lipstick.

Michonne laughed, hitting him lightly on the shoulder, but a second later she hushed as he deepened the kiss, her wide smile quickly disappearing. For a moment, she lost her breath and was worried they'd really make a scene. The chime of the (finally) arriving elevator sounded just as Rick reached up to lace his fingers behind her beautifully braided locs, holding her in place for an even deeper kiss. He couldn't help it. She looked so good tonight, he was ready to strip her of her underwear and fuck her, _hard_ , in the elevator. But there was a surprise waiting, and he wanted her to see it before he had _his_ cake.

Rick rose reluctantly from his trance, releasing Michonne's bottom lip with a moist little _smack_. He leaned back, letting go of her body and the stimulating, beaded playground of her dress. The doors slid open and Rick took hold of his bride's hand as a family of three stepped out.

"Wow, a _princess!_ Look, mommy!" The little boy holding his mother's hand gasped in awe as they passed the newlyweds, staring up at Michonne in all her glowing beauty. _She does look like a princess_ , Rick mused as he sized her up from head to toe for the upteenth time that day.

"Leave the nice princess alone, honey, come on. Sorry!" The couple towing the little boy gave them both apologetic looks as they pulled him away still craning his neck to see Michonne.

"Congrats!" The mom tossed back kindly. "You make a beautiful couple!"

"Thanks!" The princess called after them.

"Thank you, ma'am." Rick beamed with pride and elation. He followed Michonne onto the elevator, still holding her hand. The doors closed and they were alone, finally.

"You know what I can't believe?" Michonne sighed happily.

"What's that, princess?" He teased, planting quick kisses to her cheek and neck before pressing the button for their floor.

"That you managed to keep this a secret from me. _Again._ " She teased right back, poking him with an oval, blush pink nail, her sparkling eyes roaming their surroundings appreciatively. Rick turned to face her as the heavy silver doors closed. She let her thumb slide across his wedding band and tugged him closer, reaching over to reunite her arms with his neck.

"I couldn't resist." Rick confessed, pleased that he'd managed to surprise her. He reached over and pulled his fitted black tux jacket back up from where it slipped off her left shoulder, taking the opportunity to stroke her cheek, which was warm from the champagne. "It worked out so well for me last time."

He was grinning but she was serious. "I'm glad you did this. Thank you."

This hotel was where they first met, started to fall in love, and where they celebrated one of the happiest days of her life, the day he proposed. Well, today had definitely moved into the top spot. It seemed only fitting that they'd end up back here to celebrate the start of the rest of their lives together.

The floor shuddered and the elevator came to a stop. Rick stared down at her from underneath his lashes, causing a fissure of heat to ignite in her belly and spread to her sex.

"Close your eyes, Mrs. Grimes."

"Rick, I know what the hallway looks like." She quipped, even as she smiled a little with anticipation.

"Not _tonight_ , you don't, baby." He leaned over and kissed her into submission, causing her to close her eyes involuntarily, coaxed by the feel of his lips and the smell of his cologne.

And then she was swept off her feet, held in place against his sturdy chest. The hall was very quiet, except for the bride and groom brushing their lips together affectionately. The atmosphere changed from the activity of the lobby, almost as if stepping off the elevator this time meant stepping into a little bubble erected for just the two of them. The almost spirituous, sweet perfume of flowers became more apparent to her as Michonne inhaled slowly, feeling more excited and charmed with each kiss.

Rick carried Michonne out of the elevator and ended their kiss with a lingering rub of his nose against hers. "Okay, now open 'em..."

He watched her eyes widen at the sight before her. Her very slightly (and _damn sexily_ ) smeared red lips fell apart. He could see the awed, happy bride fighting with the problem solver and planner in her as she gazed around at what he'd done. Her sly, romantic husband. The floor was covered in ivory and scarlet rose petals like a soft, fragrant carpet. Pale, stringed twinkle lights were hung along the walls and floor, illuminating their way.

"Rick. _How_ did you… _when_ did you...?"

Rick grinned cockily, really enjoying the befuddlement, excitement, and skepticism dancing around each other on her beautiful face. He shook his head as he carried her slowly toward their hotel room, letting her take in every detail of his efforts. His deep tenor and rugged drawl were thick and relaxed from all the celebratory drinking and loving every minute of today. "Nuh-uh, you don't get to ask questions tonight. I have my ways. You just enjoy the view."

He fixed her with a look that told her she wasn't about to get anything else out of him as they came to a stop in front of room 2469. She didn't need to know the details of how he'd managed to arrange all this. The phone calls he'd had to make in closets while she was in the shower or sound asleep, the 'bribery' he'd had to perform in order to get their friends and family to keep this a secret. The dodgeball he'd had to play to keep her focused on wedding plans instead of whether or not this hotel room would make an appearance this year. His skills at stealth against her skills of deduction for months. She let him gloat.

Rick got the door open with her assistance, watching for her reaction as he pushed it away with his foot and carried her over the threshold.

"Wow, Rick…"

The room was lit the same way as the hall, and just as covered with petals. The pretty, sweet-smelling things floated all along the floor, the chairs, and around the bed. There were white hydrangea bouquets like the ones at the church and reception giving the tables in the room an elegant touch. The table where they'd shared room service together a dozen times was draped in lace and linen, adorned with a huge bouquet that also matched the scheme at their small wedding - along with a spread of fruit, jams, cheeses, champagne, and an assortment of chocolate truffles. A white card sat near the spread with a gold calligraphy message congratulating the bride and groom. Their luggage for the real honeymoon trip to Costa Rica had already been brought up, tucked away neatly by the closet. The place was transformed, though it still possessed the imprint of the past they'd spent in there together.

"You like it?" Rick asked in an almost abashed undertone, studying her face.

Michonne let her eyes travel across the room one last time before turning to him. Sometimes he was too good to be true. "I love it."

"It's not too cheesy?" He set her down gently, wrapping an arm around her waist to walk her closer to the bed. She shook her head as he kissed her neck and muttered against her shoulder: "I know it's just a pit stop on the way to coladas and toucans, but I wanted it to be special."

"Rick, this is pretty fantastic for a pit stop." Michonne reassured him, gazing across at the final descent of nightfall cascading in on the room from the windows with the curtains drawn open. She couldn't think of a better way to start their honeymoon. "It's perfect."

" _You're_ perfect." Rick's pride at pleasing her was already succumbing to the iron grip of his lust for her.

He turned her around to face him, glancing his hardness across her embellished backside as he went, letting her feel what was in store for her before she saw it in his eyes.

Michonne stood held in place by the look on his handsome face. All traces of sheepish sweetness had disappeared, now that they were officially alone together for the first time since they woke that morning and she had officially approved of his surprise. He stroked her arms, breathing out quietly, his lashes dropping low, his fingers making her skin tingle.

"What now, Mr. Grimes?" She whispered, the cool in the room and the look in his eyes coaxing her nipples to attention. She knew very well 'what now'.

Rick reached up to take hold of her by the neck. He gently pulled her closer, letting his jacket fall from her slender frame to the floor. He leaned down and kissed her tender lips, now slowly stripping them of her lipstick, sucking the bottom morsel into his mouth hungrily while his free hand roamed down her back until he found the thin white zipper and tugged.

He backed her up to the bed, unzipping her as they went, tilting his head and leaning into their kiss to circle his tongue around hers slowly. The caress of his mouth on hers caused a shudder of longing to whip through Michonne's body.

She'd been in a state of growing arousal since they got here, but now it felt warm, slick, and wet inside her tiny thong. The fragile fabric was clinging to her sex for dear life, the torturous pulse of her clit reverberating like a beacon for him in the dark.

"Dress off." Her husband grunted against her mouth with a sharp push of breath, his need for her overpowering all other thought. She tasted and looked too good. " _Now_ , baby."

Michonne had been holding onto the crisp, fitted collar of his white shirt, but at his command she released him and stepped away from his kiss. He watched her with fire in his eyes as she slipped out of her bespoke wedding gown that seemed to fit perfectly to her every curve, stepping one red-bottomed white heel after the other onto the rose carpet.

"Hold that thought just a minute." She held up a finger and turned to carefully drape the garment across the armchair by the window. He gave an amused chuckle, recalling how obsessed with this dress she'd been since she saw the design. She wouldn't let him see it until today of course, but he'd never been worried. She was always stunning, even just walking around in cut-offs and bare feet.

She smoothed it out on the chair while he got himself out of his shoes and slowly undid his bowtie. He stroked his steadily hardening length through his tuxedo trousers, eyeing the shine of her ring and the sight of her finely sculpted ass like a predator. A dark valley of delectable-looking skin barely covered by a flimsy, white lace thong and garters that held nude stockings up on her shapely legs. He was impatient with the need to touch her again.

"Get over here."

Her smile lit up her face as she she sashayed over, giving him a good visual as a reward for waiting. His wife. The woman of his dreams. She was the sexiest she'd ever been in this state; Mrs. Michonne Grimes forever. Not for the first time since she said yes a year ago, Rick wondered how the hell he'd gotten so lucky. And then he quickly regained focus on her amazing body.

Her mesmerizing breasts teased him, making his mouth water and his trousers feel so snug he had to swallow to relieve some pressure somewhere. Deciding to start with those first, Rick stepped into Michonne and leaned over her until she had no choice but to fall back into a sitting position on the bed.

Michonne reached up and grabbed Rick's neck, her fingers hooking into his curls, kissing him fiercely while she attempted to pull him down on top of her. She wanted to feel him between her restless thighs. Rick had other plans. He kissed his way from her mouth to her collarbone, down between her breasts, his fists sinking into the bed on either side of her squirming figure as she lay back all the way. Michonne felt his breath reach her nipple before his mouth, and she wound her hips into his girth, leaving opaline traces of precum dotting the black fabric of his trousers in their wake. Then his tongue, hot and eager, licking around her areola before tugging her nipple harshly between his devilish lips.

He moved his head to administer the same attention to her left breast, not letting himself fall too heavily on top of her just yet. Rick squeezed and groped one breast while he sucked and licked the other, causing his new bride to toss her head back into the bed and moan.

After a few breathless turns he stopped, pulling is mouth from her with a hard tug that sent a shockwave down to the now dripping honey pot between her legs. His eyes gleamed like a blue kaleidoscope in the beautiful light as he looked down at his handiwork. Her nipples standing at full attention; her eyes dancing with desire; her mouth parted as she breathed through the stimulation.

Michonne watched him undo a couple of his shirt buttons and pop open his cuffs. He discarded the cufflinks in his pocket while her legs rested, crossed at the ankles, against his chest.

Once done, he reached down, running the pads of his fingers along the skin of her torso and thighs, eyeing her soaked center where the thick, dark lips of her quivering sex clung to her ruined thong.

His dick twitched restlessly against the snug prison of his pants, but he took his time, maneuvering her legs, cutting off the view of the prize waiting for him for a moment. Michonne watched, reaching up to stroke his bulge, molding her slender fingers around the thick, oblong hardness of it. She was growing wetter and more buzzed with longing with each stroke. He pushed himself into the flesh of her plump ass, teasing her as he plucked her heels off one by one, holding her legs aloft in front of him, and tossed them across the room behind him somewhere.

Michonne giggled, the champagne having settled into a nice, languid buzz. Rick popped her garters and rolled off her stockings, tossing those aside without a backward glance, too.

He leaned down and kissed her thighs, groaning and biting her flesh when she stroked him harder through his pants, his eyes shutting for the feel of her hand on him. Then he opened her legs again, sliding _his_ hands down until he reached her hips and pinned her in place. "Hold still, baby. Let me see you."

He could already smell her. He had to see. Then he had to taste.

Rick ran his hands over Michonne's body, everywhere he could reach, as she slowly parted her legs wider, letting them fall to either side of his anchoring pelvis. She wriggled around beneath him, her thong a wet little mess of white fabric clinging to her pussy.

" _Fuck_ , Michonne." He couldn't help sending the thumb of one hand roaming across the slippery surface of the V-shaped lace barely hiding her pussy from him. He focused, concentrating on stroking her bud with firm, slow circles, causing her to gasp and arch her back, lifting her ass from the surface of the bed for more.

He exhaled slowly as he began to roll the thong straps into his grip, tugging them down and away from her dripping sex. Rick pulled the ruined thing up her smooth legs. The thong came off with a wet little _slap_ against her ankle before he tossed it to the floor with the other things.

The cool air in the room met her balmy, glistening center, exposing him to the aroma of her intoxicating arousal. She lifted and thrust against him involuntarily a second time. "Rick. Please. I'm ready."

Her need was suddenly tugging and pulling at her powerfully. They'd been waiting for this day. They were each other's forever. And Michonne wanted to _fuck_.

He smiled, shaking his head and moving himself back a bit out of her reach, despite the fact that he was fully tenting his expensive pants. " _No_ , princess. You made me wait. Only fair."

Rick slid his thumbs down her inner thighs, spreading her open as he lowered himself smoothly to his knees. Again, his breath caressed her before his lips did, raising goosebumps on the succulent, layered flesh of her pussy. Michonne moaned and let go of control, closing her eyes, trying not to lift her pelvis again for the desperately anticipated contact. A few seconds later, he was licking her open, parting her lips with his tongue, and diving right in.

"Damn, baby..." He groaned with such deep need that she felt his voice vibrating her sex.

" _...ohhhhmyygoohhhd.._." Michonne's thighs clenched and she writhed around his face.

Rick held her in place with firm hands and a strong jaw as he feasted on her the way she had those three pieces of moist, melt-in-your-mouth wedding cake. She reached down and held onto his hair when she felt one, then two of his skilled fingers entering her tight little hole. Rick began making pressured, indulgent circles against her bud with his tongue while he drove them inside at a steadily increasing pace. He captured her cherry between his searing pink lips and released it again over and over in a well-coordinated, torturous symphony he'd spent years honing to perfection.

Rick got himself messy, pulling her closer, wanting to make her understand how proud he was to have her, how eternal the fire was inside of him for her, how gratifying he found her every single time.

Michonne began actively meeting his thrusts, the heat and pressure of her orgasm speeding it's way through her core. God, she was so in love with him. She felt it so intensely, with each scorching swipe of his thick tongue and thrust of his fingers. Her vocal cues excited him beyond measure.

" _Yes...oooh, yes...yes...RICK, YES!_ "

Rick smiled against her as she rode his face until she erupted all over him, her own love visage buried in the crook of her arm above him, the diamond on her ring finger flashing from the walnut forest of his hair, hips undulating to a rhythm only she could hear inside her bliss. When she came down from the ceiling, Rick rose from his kneel and wiped his mouth. Michonne let the last tremors rush through her before sitting up on her elbows and eyeing his dick.

He was taking off his shirt when she crawled over to him, her garters dangling, her pussy a gooey little pouch of nerve endings still trembling for him. Michonne ran her hands up his muscular chest, sending her nails across his nipple with only just enough pressure to cause him to suck his teeth sharply.

She leaned in and kissed him, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, licking the taste of herself from him, before letting him go to palm his girth. "My turn. Unzip."

"Yes ma'am." Rick did as she asked, and Michonne got everything off of him with a cute, forceful little tug that sent his boxer briefs and trousers to the floor. His hardness sprang out, finally free, immediately finding a home against the warm, smooth skin of her stomach and marking it with his secretion.

Michonne licked and nipped at him again - chin, lips, jawline. He gave her a warning glare that melted into a low groan when she wrapped her cool fingers around him and swiped at his drizzling precum to lubricate him for her. His forehead lowered to rest against hers while she milked him to a bone-straight rod of long, meaty flesh. "'Chonne…" he pleaded, aware that the shoe was on the other foot and he was in for it.

"Shhh. It's _my_ turn. You deserve something special tonight."

Excitement gripped him so hard his abdomen clenched and his toes curled into the rose petal carpet. The thought of her amazing lips wrapped around him made him breathless. He didn't argue.

Michonne got herself comfortable, kissing her way down, peppering his neck, chest and stomach with little touches of what was left of her scarlet lipstick. Rick watched, mouth slightly open, hands creeping up her shoulders. He pulled the pins out of her hair and discarded them somewhere so he could lace his fingers through her locs. Rick had to throw his head back when Michonne pulled him into her mouth. He went right down her throat, and she moaned around him.

He could only croak weakly, holding on for dear life as she began to stroke and wet him from hilt to head without missing a beat. "Shit-shit-shit, yes, baby, _fuck_ , don't stop that. Take all of me, Michonne…!"

Michonne looked up at him from under her lashes, smiling around him a she pumped and sucked, her ring hand resting on his strong pelvis, his hands gripping her hair and neck.

He couldn't take it much longer. He was almost standing on his tiptoes, it felt so good. He wasn't gonna make it if she kept at this. As amazing as it felt, he wanted something a hell of a lot more. Michonne swirled her long, reddish tongue around and around his head, lulling Rick closer and closer to the edge, before he had to reach down and take her by the shoulders. His cock popped out from between her lips, followed by a silky trail of saliva. He brought her into him, kissing her fiercely before depositing her juicy ass and slick pussy right onto his pole.

Michonne whined against his mouth, immediately starting to ride him. He parted her fleshy cheeks for more room and fell onto the bed with her, kissing her breath away. She wrapped her legs around him and he hooked a hand around her thigh, lifting himself upright again to look down on her while he fucked her into a boneless puddle. She was a vision, laying on her back, legs spread, dark, wet pussy swallowing his shaft with each push and pull. He let his hands roam, his eyes drink their fill - her gorgeous breasts bouncing, her locs haloing her beautiful face, those sinful lips casting his name upward like a prayer for mercy.

He sped up, pumping harder, gripping her thigh in one hand and reaching down to palm and grope her breast with the other. "You're _mine_. Forever." He growled. "Say it."

"I-I'm yours!"

"Michonne, I love you so fucking much."

"Make me feel it, baby!"

Rick grabbed her throat, driving his need into her over and over, hypnotized by the sheer sight of her laid out before him. Her hot canal pulled him in deeper when he lifted her leg over his shoulder and leaned in to growl against her ear. Harder, and harder, and a little faster, he wanted to make her feel it.

He wanted every moment in time with her at once, from here until death forced them to part. He wanted her to bear his children. He wanted her to be alive and beautiful and beneath him like this every night that was humanly possible.

"You feel me? Huh? Tell me."

" _Oh god, yes, Rick,_ I feel you!" Michonne's eyes were shut tight, her wedding ring shining as she gripped the wrist of the hand around her throat. He slid his thumb across her bottom lip and she took it into her silky mouth, caressing it with her tongue. Rick fucked Michonne against the clean, white bed linen, surrounded by roses and sparkling lights, her moans and his groans crashing into each other in the romantic atmosphere.

Michonne felt him stroking her bud to push her over the edge, over and over, and she couldn't take it - she went spiraling into the stratosphere with his last few, powerful thrusts. Rick felt her walls spasm and pull at him, her cum gushing forth all around him like a slippery waterfall. He could only manage a few stilted pumps before his climax ripped through him. They held onto each other for dear life until the crashing waves of pleasure finally let up. Breathing hard, Rick pulled out and collapsed next to his wife, his body lit up and buzzing for more. They turned to stare into each other's eyes as they came down from their high, glistening with sweat, their smiles spreading.

"We did it…" she breathed. He nodded, eyeing her lovely body up and down, proud of himself for the state of her. They sure as fuck did.

After a few minutes of pleasant silence and heart eyes, Michonne winced and bit her lip. Her husband frowned slightly at the look on her face, concerned. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

She shook her head and gave him an adorable pout. "I want truffles, now."

"You can have whatever you want." He laughed, accepting her sweet kiss. He turned over on his side and propped his chin in his hand to watch her. His beautiful wife slid off the bed, still dewy and glowing from their romp, and tiptoed across the room to steal the tray of chocolate truffles from the table. He looked down at his wedding ring while Michonne busied herself fixing them a mini version of the spread. He felt like the luckiest man alive, and this was forever. "Til death do us part…" he whispered with immense satisfaction.


	4. Chapter 4

Blessing us with chapter 4 is **Fik Freak**. Fik is an amazingly talented writer who uses the art of seduction to seduce not only the characters within the story but her audience as well. You are left hot and sweaty, wanting, needing, panting, parched and hungry for your next taste... your next touch.

Be sure to check out her other works on her FF page.

 **-We're The Ones Who Write**

* * *

The fourth year - One Year Anniversary

"Ok, are you ready?"

"Yep."

"Remember I'm not a pro at this, or anything. I've only practiced it a few times."

"Come on, princess! Let's see it!" Rick yells from the other room, punctuating each word with its own impatient clap.

"Start the music for me! It's the first song in my 'Dance' playlist." I respond from behind the closed bathroom door. A flutter, a flickering ripple casts waves of nerves in my stomach. Dropping my gaze in the mirror, landing on the tiniest bulge of my stomach, I groan in regret at the memory of the large anniversary dinner, and the piece from the top tier from our wedding cake I consumed an hour ago. I shouldn't have done that. Now my tummy is poking out, the evidence of what my friend Sasha called my freshman fifteen. The pounds gained over my first year of wedded bliss. Remembering the celebratory dinner, and the tradition of eating from our year old wedding cake, and the gifts of paper we exchanged, I try to mask the pooch of tummy by sucking in a deep breath.

Satisfied with the way my lingerie masks it, pulls it in, I have to agree that her assessment is right. Since Rick and I got married last year I have put on about fifteen pounds, and I honestly have no clue what's going on. While Sasha dismissed it with a casual wave of her hand, complimenting that the newly cushioned bump of my hips is evidence of a well loved woman and that it looks good on me, I'm not so certain I agree. I briefly cringe at how my body is changing as I ponder how long I can hold my tummy in like this without needing to take a breath.

Smoothing my hands over my face once last time, I blow out a long breath, releasing to the universe any negative thoughts and energy my brain is conjuring, and refocusing to set my thoughts on only the positive. How idyllic my life truly is. How even with a fresh fifteen pounds to pad my ass, hips, and thighs, my first year of marriage has truly been like a fairytale. I don't know what other people's marriages are like, but mine and Rick's is romantic and fun, sexy, and effortless. I have heard others remark that marriage is an end to sex and fun, but that has not been true for us. We still go on dates like we just met. We laugh and tease like the best friends we are, and I have to laugh because just last week we somehow ended up playing a game of hide and seek that ended with Rick finding me crouched down behind his freshly dry cleaned uniforms in his closet. Not only did he find me, but I rewarded his find with a rather raunchy round of sex on the closet floor. That is why I simply can't relate to the marriage naysayers. It hasn't dampened our lives at all. In fact, it has made it that much better. Deepened our soul gratifying connection that much more. Made our bond that much stronger.

Taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub to put on my shoes, I give it some thought and easily concede that one thing marriage has done is cause me to slack a little in the exercise department. But I have happily traded that hour of running and Pilates that I faithfully used to dedicate myself to every morning before we got married, for an extra dose of Rick Grimes instead.

Standing back up to admire my outfit in the mirror, I know that I can lose this weight if I put my mind to it. And I'll need to before our trip next month to Bora Bora. That was my paper gift to Rick for our anniversary. A printout of the plane tickets and the hotel reservations. It's a location we have both always talked about visiting before we have kids, and I think now is a good time. Especially since Rick's gift, the detailed plans for our new home that he's going to build on five acres given to him by his grandparents, was given to me with the pointed mention that the house would be big enough for the babies we want to fill it with. And the land would be a big enough playground that they could explore and stay busy.

The plans show a sprawling 4,000 square foot ranch home, with five bedrooms, and four baths. A walkout basement, that will have a game room, a TV room, and a modest gym for my daily workouts. And my two favorite features, an in ground swimming pool, and a large kitchen. I was shocked at the thoughtfulness of the design that incorporates every feature that I have ever mentioned wanting in a home. That's how I know how lucky I am, how fortunate I am that I have a husband who listens to all of the jibber jabber I spout during our weekly Sunday routine of watching HGTV in bed. Lazily snuggled under the covers together, we often bond over our shared disbelief at the couples whose jobs could be tap dancing on the street for pennies, but yet still have a million-dollar budget for a new home. Or our trips to quaint out of the way spots antiquing, looking for just the right chaise, or lamp for our small home. All of the seemingly insignificant ruminations that any other man might disregard as the white noise of female chatter. Tidbits, hints of things desired, dreams deferred, or unfulfilled. He meets them, has met them with these house plans. I blush to think of how this man has given me everything I have ever wanted, the physical embodiment of so many blessings. And with that thought, I agree that soon it will be time for us to continue to grow our family, and pay homage to the blessing of our love. Not now, but soon.

The intricate, web-like pattern of the red lace, curving high at the apex of my thighs, and open in the crotch, splitting to barely cover the lips of my sex, was the naughtiest yet prettiest thing I could find in La Perla. Cutting equally high in the back in an elongated V that traverses over the cheeks of my bottom, the delicate lace fits like a thong, rising up over my ass and pulling in with the tight boning at the waist. Undulating lines of satin criss-cross over the bodice, a nice contrast to the structured corsetry that gives a stunning hourglass effect against the velvety blush of my dark skin. With only thin satin straps holding it up, leading over my shoulders, to attempt to support my heavy breasts over the half cupped demi shape of the bra portion, where my nipples are nearly peeking over the transparent top, I think Rick is going to like this. I know he is, and even though he tells me not to waste my money on such pretty things because he's only going to ruin them, I love the spark of desire that ignites whenever he sees me in them. Especially when they are red.

Red is my color, I wear it for him every year as a reminder of that first day, our first night together. And I have to admit, this shade of red, a luxurious scarlet, that brings to mind one of Rick's favorite treats, maraschino cherries, looks amazing on me. It's the same color of Chanel lipstick I have carefully applied to my pouty lips, #466 Carmen. It all presents an alluring picture, and I'm certain it will make me Rick's favorite treat tonight.

"Michonne! If you don't come out in 3 seconds I'm coming in there to get you!" Rick hollers, a restless aggression coloring his words.

Hearing the first few notes of Teyana Taylor's 'Maybe' blasting from the Beats speaker in the bedroom of our hotel suite, I check myself one last time in the mirror, satisfied with glow of my skin, my seductively dark makeup, and even the tiny pooch of my tummy. With a grin, I turn and exit the room.

Rick is slumped in a chair in the middle of the room, still wearing his dark shirt, his patterned silk tie hanging loosely around his neck. His legs set wide in his black slacks. He has removed his shoes, and it's clear that he's been anxiously awaiting me from the tumble of his hair no longer in smooth waves brushed away from his face. No. A few errant curls frame his forehead, and as he rakes them through one last time, he looks up to finally catch sight of me strutting his way.

The six inch heels I'm wearing make it easy for my hips to swing, and even if I wasn't trying, it's sexy, and it gives me the jolt of confidence I need for this. Wanting to do something different for our one-year anniversary, I have been taking a chair dancing class. I've been keeping it a secret from Rick. The classes, the routine I've been working on just for tonight, the new lingerie. All of it. I can see it. The lust brimming. I can tell from the strain of my name breaking over his lips. From the stark surprise twinkling in his clear blue eyes, the same transparency as cool ice, as his gaze treks a scorching excursion of wanderlust up and down my frame. Back and forth, hypnotized by the pendulum sway of my hips, he likes what he sees.

" _Maybe maybe it's the money_

 _Baby maybe not!_

 _Maybe I fell in love with you on the spot_

 _Never mind, keep it G_

 _I told you different at the top_

 _Maybe never mattered?"_

Upon my approach, Rick instantly straightens, his hands reaching, grasping, gripping the fleshy drop of my ass. Pressing his face to my abdomen, he kisses my tummy, my hips, my waist, nearly distracting me from my plan. Pulling back from his greedy clutches, I lift my leg and press my heel to his chest, pressing against the opening of his shirt where wispy hints of hair emerge from the unbuttoned halves of his dress shirt. Adding pressure, I urge him to behave, to recline back in his chair. Excitement dances in his eyes, as he licks at his lips, glancing down to the wrinkling crush of my stiletto, the pointed tip and the spikey heel, and obeys my instruction. Wrapping his long fingers around my delicate ankle, he bestows the tiniest of kisses, followed by a caress of his tongue licking across my skin, then lifts my foot from his chest. I shudder with delight at the erotic play of his tongue.

Approaching him again, I widen my legs on either side of the chair, and straddle his lap, but don't sit. Not yet. Invading his space, but leaving room between us, we don't touch. Making eye contact, a thrill erupts in my core just from his intense response to me, to the wild, untamed way his eyes indulgently devour every inch of me in anticipation of what's coming next.

Immediately a rush of air escapes his lips, and he's reaching for me again, his palms resting on my heaving breasts.

"No touching. Not yet." I tease, grabbing a hold of his tie. Slowly dragging it from around his neck, I hold each end of the silky material in my hands. Stretching it, snapping it into a straight line in the space between us, in front of his eyes, I wrap it around each of my fists, twisting it as I warn him. "Behave, or I will have to restrain you."

"I'm fine with that." He utters, his voice low, gravelly. Seductively tossing out his acceptance of my challenge, then on a soft laugh he retreats. "But…ok. I'll try to behave." He agrees, nodding his head my way to accede to my wishes, and biting down on his pink bottom lip with a sly grin. His fingers lazily skim against each other at his sides, a sign that he's at least trying to moderate his incorrigible need to misbehave.

"Good boy."

Throwing his tie to the floor, I'm waving my body down in a fluid drop to the rhythmic groove of the music, I perch on his lap, facing him. Remembering the movements of the well practiced routine, I grind my sex over his rising flesh. I raise my hands in the air and bring them down in a soft caress over my lips, my throat, my breasts, the tight arch of my waist. Whipping my head back, tossing the clustering curls of my locs free, flowing down my back and over my shoulders, I dip back. Low. Lower. Feeling the thrum of the music move through me, guiding me. While still moving my hips in a wide circling twist over him, he's growing hard. Harder. Longer. Then I ease back up, cupping my breasts, watching as Rick's eyes drop to where they push against the lace, the mounds easing out of the small cups. Licking at his lips again he tries to reach for me once more, his restraint slipping, giving in to his desire. But I won't let him. Not yet.

With the bass of the music instructing my movements, the words encouraging me, and the two glasses of wine from dinner giving me a little boost, I proceed to lift up a bit to stand over him. With the pointed tip of one of my shiny black stilettos, I place my left foot on the chair padding in between Rick's open legs, nudging at the bulge of his cock, straining against his pants. Turned on further by the sight of his thick arousal, balancing on my right leg, one hand on the back of the chair, holding me steady, and with my left leg now bent, I proceed to bounce and wind, then thrust back and forth, giving him a clear view of the open crotch of the lingerie, now sticky and wet.

"Fuck…" Eyelids low, squinting and focusing on my movements, he huffs and pulls his lips in between his teeth. Poor Rick. He's attempting to follow the no touching rule, but the bulking of his chest gives him away. He's fighting a losing battle.

Pleased with his reaction, I stroke my fingers down his neck, the throb of his quickened pulse, and into the opening of his shirt. Playing my fingers over his chest, his nipple, I watch with interest as he sucks in a breath, swallowing it down thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily in his throat.

" _I say boy, yeah you did_

 _Love how you kiss it_

 _Uuu, you can get it_

 _I never felt like that before_

 _Uuu, you're the realest_

 _Yeah, I admit it_

 _All of my feelings..._ "

Leaning to the side, I lift my right leg up to join my left, now teetering on my toes, thighs wide, and continue to tempt him with the twirling wind of my hips, and the display of my sex so close, but still outside of his reach. With my hand still on his chest, I push him down a little further into his slouch, giving him a better view of my pussy. Removing my hand from his shirt, I anchor myself against him, then lace both hands around the back of his neck, feathering through the hair dusting the collar of his shirt at the nape. Pulling his face forward, I push my breasts just close enough to his lips and nose, but not touching. A whisper away, I can feel the heated puffs of his breath rushing out in hasty drafts over my sensitive nipples.

No longer able to withstand the no touching rule, Rick grabs me roughly around the waist, crushing my gyrating body into his own, nearly halting my dance. But I can't let him take control yet, my routine isn't done. So I gracefully place my feet back on the floor between his feet and back up, steadying myself against the onslaught of my own excitement. Groaning at the separation, and the swipe of his hands from my waist, he curses again, as I turn my back to him.

Dipping low, dropping to the ground, I bend at the waist, then glide my fingers up my leg, rising in a series of fluid undulations. Guiding myself back to his lap, I'm grinding, grooving, winding, whipping my head down then back to rest on his shoulder as I run my hands over his muscled thighs.

"Fuck, Michonne, I don't need any more. Good job, babe. You done?" He asks, and claps his hands together, obviously ready to get to the most anticipated part of our anniversary.

"Rick… baby…" I whimper, feeling the adrenaline rush of his eager arousal gifting me with a contact high of my own.

"Yeah, babe, shit…say my name like that again." Rick commands, his voice a labored scratch over the thumping music. With his right hand he has discarded all thoughts of obedience, and is now drenching his fingers in the damp stickiness of my soft petals. "Say it."

"Rick."

"Again."

"Rick…" I stutter, a heady dose of arousal clouding my thoughts, nearly causing me to abandon my dance. Remembering how much I practiced this gift, just for him, I correct my thoughts, and continue with my practiced steps.

Dropping my ass into his lap in a twerking bounce, I massage my fingers gently over his scalp, a thin grasp of his hair.

"Yeah… babe, you're so sexy…this is killing me."

Sitting forward, I lean my body down, my hair falling around my face, and grab my ankles. Swinging my form left then right, hitting the catch of the beat, then bouncing my ass at the drop of the bass, I can feel Rick run his hand over my ass, squeezing my flesh. Lifting the scrap of material further into my ass, he begins to cover the cheeks with wet kisses, then a series of bites, growling his excitement which causes a smile to grow on my lips. Within seconds I hear the telling rip of the lace at the back of my now ruined bodysuit, and the drop of his pant's zipper.

Taking control, Rick has had enough of the tease. Wrapping his large hands around my waist, he pulls me back between his outstretched legs.

"Enough teasing, Michonne. I want my gift now."

Giggling at his rough nature peeking through, I give him a coy glance over my shoulder. "But I'm not done."

"Yes you are." He grits out, and I notice that he's released his cock, and is pumping the stiff flesh, up and down, his thumb toying with the stickiness pearled at the tip. "Now be a _good girl_ for me."

" _Maybe it's the liquor, maybe it's the song_

 _Don't know what it is, but you turn me on_

 _Maybe it's the bar, maybe it's the car_

 _Don't know what it is, maybe I'm in love…"_

There's no maybe to it, I am in love. With this man, my man. My husband. As he uses his strong hands to twist me back around to face him, and lower me to the carpeted floor, I gasp at the feeling of his heavy weight on me, pressing down between my thighs.

"Did you like my routine, Rick?"

"I loved it. I love you."

Sucking down a breath at the feeling of him sinking into me, pushing against the slickness of my sensitive flesh, I delight at the dazzling thrill I always get at hearing him say that. At the accompanying love I always see in his eyes.

"I love you too. Always."

"Always." Rick promises as his hips begin a punishingly delicious pace against my pelvis. Dipping his head, he feasts on my breasts, his lips and tongue sloppily sucking at my nipples. His mouth hungrily inhaling as much of the soft plumpness as he can. Hovering over me, holding himself up on his hands, his beautiful face is a mixture of relief, and titillating gratification. My hands roam under his shirt, scraping my nails over his nipples, watching his face contort at the scratch of my nails against his skin.

Seemingly encouraged by the throaty moans erupting from my diaphragm, Rick leans up, and hooking my thighs over the crook of his arms, he begins a slow paced whip of his hips. Up, up, deeper, deeper. Just. Right. There.

"Ahhhh, Rick, ah!"

"That's it, that's it. Fucking teasing me…"

"Baby, please! Oh god, oh god…" I scream, the pleasure of him knocking against that fleshy bundle, his pelvis pressing into my clit, his cock tunneling, pushing, prodding…it's too much. Sticky, sweaty, nearly spent I hold on, and attempt to give as good as I'm getting, jutting my hips up to meet each of his powerful thrusts.

Bowing his back to bend into me, pinning me down to the carpeted floor, his chest flush against mine, Rick kisses me. A slow, measured lick of his tongue tangling with mine. Tasting the inebriating hint of scotch that lingers on his lips, and the classically masculine and invigorating scent of his cologne, my fingers stroke through his hair, needy in the way they keep his mouth suctioned to mine.

Lingering his kiss on my lips, Rick's pace picks up speed again, and I know he's close to finding the glow of nirvana. That scintillating slice of heaven that can only be found in each other's arms.

And then I feel it too. The buzzing hum that starts as a low rumble. An electric spark, arcing in my core. As he removes his lips from my own, and latches them in a tight suck over the responsive skin covering my throbbing pulse, spasms seize me. A delicious squeeze that tightens the gloved fit of me over him, pulling, grasping, daring him to join me in the ecstatic awakening of every cell in my body.

Rick joins me, his orgasm draining any semblance of coherence from him, words crossing his lips in a faltering, yet beseeching prayer of love and thankfulness. For me. For this moment. For every minute that we share together. Swiping the wet curls from his sweaty forehead, I kiss his clean shaven cheeks, offering him a worshipful litany of my own.

In a series of labored, heaving breaths Rick finally utters, "Michonne…"

"Hm?" I mumble in response, descending from the dizzying heights of my own orgasm. I relax as he releases my limbs to collapse into the plush shag of the carpet. Entwined in a satisfied twist of arms and legs, Rick's head is cradled in the cushion of my breasts, turned, his cheek flat to my chest.

"Where the hell did you learn to do that?"


	5. Chapter 5

The phenomenal **Tigerwalk** gifts us with year 5 in the chronicle of this romance.

Be sure to check out her other works on her FF page.

- **We're The Ones Who Write**

* * *

Chapter 5

The fifth year - 2nd Anniversary

"Michonne, we've been gone an hour. I'm not calling her." Rick cupped his wife's cheek, trying his best to assuage her worries with a tender look, his other hand offering a gentle squeeze of her ass. "We've got twenty three more of 'em, let's make the most of it."

"I just want to make sure he's taking the bottle," she said, feeling the tingling start in her breasts at just the thought of her baby feeding without her.

He reached around her and slid the key card into the slot on the hotel room door, listening for the double beep that welcomed them to their much needed night away. "You watched him take one before we left. Please try to relax? We only do this once a year."

She offered him a forced smile, fighting her inclination to call the whole thing off and rush back home. Her husband however, was looking extremely handsome in his persuasiveness, as he leaned over her with a playful pout, and now she was beginning to feel a tingling in another part of her body; one that hadn't made an appearance in awhile. It was all very confusing, and she sighed heavily at the conundrum.

They needed this, she decided. Having a newborn was exhausting and draining, and though it was a welcome one, the pregnancy had been a complete surprise, giving them very little time to adjust their lives to accommodate for such a shift. The very thing that led them to their happy little accident, their healthy sexual relationship, had suffered the most because of it.

Rick pushed the door open behind her and she backed into the room with revived excitement, gearing up for the moment when she would lay eyes on their annual getaway. A big grin made its way to her face as she spun around to take it in, giddiness beginning to push out the apprehension that had been lodged in her chest. When she finally got a good look at the room, however, her grin turned into a frown. "It's different," she said, scanning the unfamiliar furnishings that now sat like strangers in a room she had memorized as well as her own.

Rick trailed his fingers along her waist as he passed her, tossing their luggage on the bed. "Musta redecorated," he said as he plopped down beside the suitcase and removed his jacket.

"I guess," she said. She took a few steps around the room, surveying the new modern artwork hanging on the walls and the overstuffed chairs situated by the window where two classic wing backs had sat before.

"Come over here," he said, reaching a hand out to her.

She walked across the room and came to stand before him with her hands on her hips.

"Closer." He pulled her into him, parting his knees so she could step between them.

"I can't believe the last time we were here we made him," she said, rubbing a hand absently over her belly that still hadn't returned to its former taut condition. Rick noticed the gesture and pressed his lips over her fingers, his hands kneading her backside indulgently. "Now, a year later, our whole lives are different. It's surreal. I barely remember life before him." He looked back up at her as she continued to take in the state of the room with a pensive look on her face.

"You wanna call?" he asked, a smile over taking his lustful eyes.

She nodded, with a guilty grin.

"Alright," he sighed, checking his watch. "We've got dinner reservations in thirty minutes anyway. Give your mom a call and I'll unpack a little."

…

Michonne's usual sexy, rich laughter had transformed into girlish giggles as she sat across the candle lit table from him, sipping her wine. Rick leaned back in his chair, watching her amusedly.

"Normally I'd suggest you slow down a little bit," he drawled, his tongue swiping his lower lip as he took in her mirth. "But I'm happy you're havin' a good time."

"I'm having a very good time," she said, leaning forward across the table and flirtatiously batting her eyelashes at him.

After a successful call to her mother, who assured her Carl had eaten, napped, and been generally happy since they left, she had started to loosen up. She held her glass in one hand, her other draped across the table where the waiter had just removed her empty plate, and she let her elbows press against the sides of her ample cleavage in an unnecessary attempt at drawing his attention. She already had it.

"You want dessert?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave as he watched her toy with him. She shook her head slowly, her eyes trained on his, and he felt her bare foot travel up the inside of his thigh before settling in his lap. He quickly took it in his hand, squeezing her toes to stop their mischief, afraid he wouldn't be able to walk out of the restaurant properly if she kept going.

He brought his own glass to his lips, quickly draining the short tumbler of amber colored liquor, and swiveled his head back and forth, searching for the waiter.

"This was a good idea," she said, finishing her wine and setting her chin in her hand.

Rick caught the attention of their server and held a hand up, signing the air with an invisible pen to let him know he wanted the check, stat. Michonne was happy, relaxed and obviously feeling as sexy as she looked, and he wanted to take advantage of that starting five minutes ago.

"It was a good idea." He kept his eyes on her as the young man, dressed in a crisp white dress shirt, moved behind the bar to retrieve their bill.

"Sometimes it's hard to separate being a woman with being a mother," she mused, still staring rather dreamily across the table. "Even these have found an altogether different purpose." She glanced down at the round tops of her breasts, heaving out of the neckline of her red dress. He'd helped her zip up the short sheath cut garment before they headed out to dinner and he couldn't help but notice the look of irritation on her face when the fabric stretched tightly across her midsection, where it used to hang freely. "It's hard to feel pretty when your body has a more...practical purpose"

"You're gorgeous as ever, baby," he said, genuinely. Motherhood looked good on her as far as he was concerned. Her body had changed to accommodate a piece of him inside her; there was nothing sexier than that.

"You say that...but…" Her words were slow and deliberate, the half a bottle of wine she had consumed making them more difficult.

"I'll show you then."

As if feeling the urgency radiating from Rick's fixed blue eyes, the waiter appeared in a hurry, dropping the bill on the table. Rick motioned for him to stay and pulled his card out of his wallet, handing it to him with his gaze still deliberately on his wife.

Three minutes later, Rick was scribbling a tip and signing his name on the slip as quickly as he could, before standing to take Michonne's hand.

She squeezed his fingers as they swooped out of the door and into the dark of night. The cool air and romantic twinkling light of the imitation gas lamps that lined the sidewalk only drove them closer together as they walked. It was a few short blocks to their hotel, and the doorman greeted them as they made their way into the bright lobby, Rick's arm around her shoulders, hers around his waist, both of their fingers digging into the other's flesh.

They stepped onto the elevator car, both grinning when they found it empty, and after pressing the button to take them to the top floor, Rick turned to her with a look that threatened to set her on fire. She backed up against the wall and he stepped to her, placing a hand beside her head, and trapping her with his stance. He dropped his face to the crook of her neck, kissing his way up to her ear, then used his teeth to bring the lobe into his mouth. Michonne reached for the silk tie she had gifted him for this occasion and wrapped it around her wrist to hold him in place.

The loud ding of the bell alerting them to their destination startled her, and she grabbed a fistful of his shirt, jumping in place. He ran his hand down her bare arm, settling their palms together and lacing their fingers as he pulled her along behind him. When they got to their favorite room, he brought her knuckles to his lips, kissing them gently to settle their pace before swiping the key card. He didn't want to rush this.

They pushed into the room, still smiling at each other, and he allowed himself a moment to take in her full form, standing before him, dressed to the nines, and looking radiant from the wine and the carefree evening.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, a thought occuring to her as she watched him watch her. "I have something." She turned around, wobbling a little on her heels before kicking them off and crossing the room to her luggage. "Turn around."

He quirked an eyebrow at her, refusing her request, and pushing aside the tails of his suit coat to rest his hand on his hips.

"Actually, get undressed," she said, "and…" she faltered a little pointing around the room until she remembered the direction of the bathroom. "Brush your teeth. You taste like Scotch."

He shook his head, chuckling at her orders, but acquiesced, wondering what she was hiding. "You want me to call your mom?" he asked, loosening his tie and heading off in the direction of the suite's living area. "I feel like you shouldn't."

She smiled at him while rummaging through her bag, knowing he was probably right. "Ok. Carl should be asleep by now. Just get a quick update and hurry back."

"Yes ma'am," he said, tossing her a playful salute and heading out of sight.

…

Rick spent exactly four and a half minutes speaking to Michonne's mother, and another five in the bathroom following her instructions, before making his way back to the side of the room where he had left her. When he entered the bedroom, the lights were dimmed and Michonne was stretched across the mattress on her tummy. Her little red dress replaced with a little red slip that had spaghetti straps and was lined with black lace along the hem. He felt his boxer briefs begin to tighten as his eyes ran the length of her, focusing on all of the smooth, dark skin that had been recently exposed by the wardrobe change, and he reached down to adjust the growing bulge. She had her head propped on her bent arm, facing the window that looked out over the skyline lit up by the lights of vacationers, partiers and lovers all over the city, and her feet were crossed daintily at the ankles.

"Is that for me?" he said, taking a few more steps until he was all the way in the room. She didn't answer him and he took that as his cue to find out for himself, padding around the bed to stand before her. What he found, however, had his lustful eyes crinkling in amusement. "'Chonne."

Her cheek resting in her palm, and her lips slightly parted, she was fast asleep. Rick ran a heavy hand over his face then smiled down at her again, musing over her previous reflection about how much things had changed. It was temporary though, he knew that, and despite his physical readiness, he knew he could use the sleep as well.

He gently removed her hand, cradling her head in his palm and lowering it down to the pillow, then moved to the foot of the bed, unfolding the heavy blanket draped there. He pulled it up around her, then turned to switch off the lamp on the table beside her, creeping around to his side in the dark. He crawled onto the huge bed on his hands and knees, until he was settled right beside her, and lay down, pulling her warm body into his chest. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, and tucked his knees into the curve of hers, getting as close as possible, then drifted off to enjoy the first uninterrupted night of sleep either of them had had in the last three months.

…

In his haste to join her the night before, Rick had forgotten to close the heavy drapes that covered the picture window on the wall beside their bed, so now the light of the very early morning was shining directly in his eyes as he tried to enjoy the rare occasion to sleep in.

Michonne was stirring awake as well, not because of the light assaulting her eyelids, but because of the very obvious morning greeting from her husband pressed into the cheek of her ass. She instinctively pushed herself backwards into him, pulling him all the way into consciousness as his eyes fluttered open.

"Morning," he drawled, his lips pressed into her hair.

"Oh my God," she said, stretching her arms over her head and straightening her legs. "I fell asleep!"

"You did," he chuckled softly, gripping her hips while she stretched, to maintain their contact.

"I'm so sorry. Why didn't you wake me?"

"Because you looked so peaceful," he smiled, letting his fingers roam the silky fabric of her nightie. "And frankly, I was exhausted too."

She laughed with him at his confession. "I guess we both needed the sleep," she sighed. Shifting in his arms, she turned around to face him, reaching up to stroke the thick stubble on his chin that he had sprouted overnight. "But I needed something else too…"

Rick leaned in to kiss her, sliding a hand down her thigh to wrap her leg around his waist. He pulled away briefly, lifting his wrist in the air and squinting at his watch. "We still have five hours left till check out."

"That should be enough time," she said with a smirk.

He nodded in agreement then leaned in again, this time parting her lips with his tongue as his grip on her waist tightened. She could feel his length, now pressed into her stomach, and she moaned at the anticipation. "I miss Carl," she whispered against his lips, "but I also missed this." A lazy morning with just the two of them, wrapped up in each other and a mess of sheets, might as well have been a fairytale from one of the illustrated board books in their son's nursery. Life had sped up considerably, and now they finally had a moment to slow down and just be together in this place that had caught a glimpse of every version of them. From strangers, to lovers, to newlyweds; adding mommy and daddy to the list of titles they'd come here wearing seemed only fitting.

"I missed this too," he replied, staring into her eyes with the same longing.

Rick wrapped an arm around her waist, deftly maneuvering her beneath him, and came to rest on his forearms above her. He started at her neck, working his mouth along her skin and inching downward until he felt her hands wrap around his biceps, halting his progress. He lifted his head from the smooth, cool fabric of her lingerie to peer up at her eyes, widened with apprehension. He had been expecting her reluctance, but it had been three months since he'd tasted her and he'd be damned if he was going to let any misplaced insecurities keep him from his rightful place any longer. "Let me, baby," he whispered, fixing her with a firm, yet understanding, look.

Michonne squirmed a little under his intense stare. They hadn't even waited the full six weeks to get back to making love, but this was different. The rest of her body was still wearing all of the medals she'd earned giving life to their child, and she knew her most intimate parts wouldn't be any different. "Rick…" she started, her legs tensing to lock him in place.

"Shhh," he soothed, massaging her hip with his hand. "I got you, Michonne. Let me."

She pulled in a calming breath and picked her head up off of the pillow to look at him. She knew she'd denied him, and herself, long enough. She was nervous to find out how this would change, in the same way everything else had seemed to, but looking down into his earnest blue eyes, she knew she could never be any safer than in his hands. She trusted him implicitly-with her life even, and now the life of her child; when Rick promised he had her, she knew he meant it. Finally nodding a weak agreement, she loosened her grip on him and sank back into the pillow letting her knees fall farther apart.

Rick glanced down to take her in, a grin stretching across his face when he saw the red silk panties that were his anniversary gift to her. His pride over his gift was short lived though, as he realized those needed to go. He hooked his thumbs inside of them, pulling them down her long legs and tossing them over his shoulder. He continued his journey, feeling a little like it was his first time, instead of his most time honored indulgence, and gently pressed his lips to her inner thigh to help her relax the muscles there.

Michonne clenched her eyes shut, readying herself for his affection.

He parted her with his fingers, and she let out a short gasp at the feel of him, grabbing a fistful of his hair in response. "You ok?" he asked, pulling back a little. She hummed out an affirmative and tried again to allow her body to relax.

True to his word, he eased into it slowly, allowing her time to adjust to the familiar, yet altogether different sensation that was her husband's lips on her center. His warm breath and soft, supple tongue coaxed tiny shivers from her lower half, and he hadn't even gotten to work yet.

She'd heard other women say that pregnancy and childbirth, for all of the marks it left on the outside, gave you an even more intimate understanding of your body, like exploring a house you'd lived in your whole life, only to find secret passageways and doors that had suddenly become unlocked. Maybe it was just the length of time she'd gone without this particular pleasure, but she was beginning to believe the mythology.

Rick, satisfied with her waning resistance, continued along the path he knew like the back of his hand. A finely tuned and well practiced choreography that he'd made it his mission to master. He was more than pleased to find that, despite her trepidation, all of the steps still fit the music.

She'd given up her tentative hold on his head, completely surrendering to the point of no return, and now her fingers clutched and released the white sheets beneath her in tandem with her rhythmic breaths. Her hips moved against him now, and she swore she could feel the grin creeping across his face as all of her inhibitions left her.

She was so consumed with the shift from worry to divine resignation that her peak bowled into her like a rogue wave. She let out one long cry and he held her in place as she instinctively tried to run away from the intensity.

"Oh my God," she moaned, as she fought to catch her breath. A lazy smile stretched across her face, further boosting his confidence that he'd put one set of reservations to bed once and for all, but he still had a little more work to do.

He sat on knees above her, stroking himself while he watched her shiver with one more latent aftershock, before finally opening her eyes.

"That's pretty, Michonne," he said, gesturing with his chin to her slip, now bunched around her hips. "But it's still a lotta clothes for what I wanna do to you."

She ran a hand over her belly, smoothing the satin out with her palm, and eyeing him with a look of consternation. He wasn't giving in this time either, though. They had hours left in their night away, and he would use every one of them to convince her how beautiful she was if he had to. He let go of himself to run both of his hand up her thighs and over her hips, taking the fabric with him as he perused the skin that was exposed in its wake. He licked his lips, still tasting his first victory on them, while he contemplated his second. Setting about the reverse trip back up her body, he pressed his mouth to the soft flesh just beneath her navel, feeling its new suppleness absorb his lips and the tip of his nose. He felt her tense again and he repeated the action to the left and the the right of the slightly larger aperture in the center of her abdomen, smiling at the memory of it popped out of the curve of her swollen belly.

"Can you come up here and stop torturing me," she sighed, growing impatient with the point he was trying desperately to make. She knew he wouldn't give up until she surrendered.

"I promised to show you how beautiful you are," he said, palming her round hip and squeezing hard. "I can't have you doubting it."

"I believe you," she said. "Now come here. Please?"

He didn't need to be told twice, crawling the rest of the way up her body until they were face to face, and pressing himself wantonly into the same flesh he had just been worshipping. "I know everything feels like it's changed, Michonne," he said, cupping her face while he rocked against her. "And it has. I know it has, because I don't think I've ever loved you more than I do right now." He kissed her before she could respond, lifting her bottom with the hand that had been resting on her waist, and he pushed inside of her with one long stroke that left them both hissing sharply through their teeth.

He began to move inside her, again choosing an extremely gentle touch. It hadn't been a particularly easy birth and though they'd gotten right back at it as soon as she'd felt up to it, he'd been treating her with kid gloves ever since he'd caught her wince their first time after Carl.

She could feel him holding back, and with a renewed confidence in her body's appeal and ability, she lifted to meet him, urging him on. "It's ok, Rick," she said, digging her fingers into his back as he pushed in a little deeper. She wrapped her leg around his, flexing her thigh to pull him against her every time he thrust.

He dropped his head to her shoulder, knowing that if he looked at her this was going to be over way before he wanted it to. "You're good?" he rasped, barely getting the words out before she moaned her answer.

"I'm good," she said. "Don't stop."

The very slight discomfort that still persisted when he let himself use his full force began to mix with the waves of pleasure, until they were all part of the same symphony of firing nerve endings, indistinguishable from each other. He grasped the back of her thigh, pushing her knee up until she could hook it over his shoulder and suddenly forgot every cautious intention he'd started with.

"Rick," she said, her hands finding the curls at the back of his head and gripping them like the handlebar on a rollercoaster as she felt that undeniable tightening of her body proving its resilience once again.

That was all he could handle as the sensation and her pleasured gasps untied the last thread of restraint he's been holding onto. He threw his head back, cursing loudly, before dropping his forehead to hers with a low growl.

"Christ," he laughed after a moment of them staring at each other and panting the same air. He rolled off of her, flopping on his back. "It's been awhile since we've done it like that. You sure you're ok?"

"I'm more than ok," she said, dreamily, her eyes rolling shut.

"I love you," he whispered, staring up at the ceiling and reaching out for her hand. She laced their fingers together, and he circled his thumb on the inside of her palm.

"I love you, too, Rick."

"Michonne?"

"Hmm?"

"You wanna go home and see Carl?"

Michonne broke out into a soft chuckle, tossing an arm over her eyes. "You know I do," she admitted.

"Me too," he said, his own grin growing to match hers. "Let's pack."


	6. Chapter 6

Are you ready to take a peek into the life of Richonne on this, their 6th year together? Come find out what experience **Nyese3529** will pull you into this time.

Be sure to check out her other works on her FF page.

 **-We're The Ones Who Write**

* * *

 _The sixth year - third Anniversary_

 _Sex_. _Fucking. Making love._ It had been on her mind all day. Thoughts of it seeped out and stayed haunting her like a ghost. Michonne needed some of Rick, and in the worst way possible. The car ride over to the hotel became a delightful little torture; the little bumps and vibrations reminding her of what she had been missing for weeks now. _Her husband inside of her._

Shaking those wanton thoughts from her mind, Michonne looked over at her husband, Rick Grimes, the man who changed her world. He gave her so much life in every meaning of the word. They way he treated her...how he cared for her. Their love spawned more love and it grew with their son, Carl, and with his wonderment and curiosity...his rambunctiousness. It grew within her now.

Michonne placed her hands over her belly, thinking about the yearly romantic getaway they took to celebrate their third anniversary. The time flew by, but their love was constant. It couldn't bend or break. Nothing could challenge it. Not a thing.

Except for morning sickness, which seemed to cause a major divide in their interactions, sexual or otherwise. Michonne became so sensitive to smell and could not stand inhaling Rick's cologne. Even when he didn't put it on she claimed it still wafted around her, suffocating her. Unfortunately, she ended up kicking him out of their room and he had to sleep on the couch.

"How you feelin' over there?" Rick asked grabbing her thigh, his eyes never leaving the road. Comforting fingers trailed upward until she felt heat cover her. A small breath of anguish escaped Michonne when his hand rested on her belly gently, instead of sliding between her legs like she hoped. She nearly wanted him to part her folds, now slick from wanting him, and massaging her clit until she swooned from pleasure. _But, that wasn't going to happen._

"Not sick." _Thank you pregnancy hormones._.. _finally_. "I'm sooo glad I'm feeling better," she commented trying to keep herself in a good space. Michonne wouldn't wish her bout of morning sickness on her worst enemy. It got so bad she couldn't go into the office to work. She still would work from home, because work has to get done, but the intense nausea wouldn't let her leave the bed except to make it to the bathroom. If she could manage that at all.

"I'm glad you're feeling better and decided that we should do this. Wouldn't feel right missing our weekend," he said peeking at her quickly, a big smile stretching his face as he focused on the road again. "We're doin' dinner, right ...dancing? You up for dancing?" Rick asked. Michonne shook her head.

"Dancing...no...dinner...yes." She rubbed her belly and snuggled more into her seat. "My feet are swollen so I ain't in the mood for dancing, and I happen to like eating more," she laughed, squeezing his hand.

Rick only smiled and rubbed her bump. He enjoyed the sight of her ravishing the refrigerator for food early in the mornings. Or, having him plunder it during the night for various craving she got.

For a while, the incessant nausea kept Michonne from enjoying a real homemade meal, having to settle for broths and crackers mostly. The sight of her laying in bed, groaning from the sick feeling she experienced tore at his heart. He always wanted to take her pain.

But he realized he couldn't and would have to help her in other ways, such as taking care of Carl. And also washing the dishes, doing laundry and fixing all of the meals. Rick also carried all the files she needed to take up to the Law office, if Andrea couldn't pick them up.

On top of that, Rick still had to go into work to his full-time job that sometimes required overtime hours. It was a lot, but when he thought about their growing family, and how much they wanted another kid, all of the sleepless nights and long days escaped him. If it meant making sure his wife felt better, then he did it.

He'd do anything for her...anything.

….

"I love the blossoms. Such a nice little unexpected burst of joy from nature," Michonne said standing underneath a tree. The branches hung over her in a cloud of pink, providing a cloak of shade on the beautifully warm, sunny day.

Michonne looked like a vision underneath the tree, a renaissance painting of goddess...the swell of her belly highlighted in a soft floral essence. The sight was sweeter than the cherry blossoms that blanketed the tidal basin near the Washington Monument. _God_ , he wanted her, and in the worst way.

She looked up at Rick and he smiled down at her. A few people walked by as they enjoyed the Cherry Blossom Festival. This year, it took longer for the trees to show their cotton candy pink colorful blossoms, giving Rick and Michonne an ample front row seat to the beautiful sight in the springtime. Rick wanted to capture this moment of them under the tree with Michonne in all her decadent beauty. _His princess._

He took out his phone and asked a random festival goer to take their picture. Rick stood behind Michonne, wrapping his arms around her waist, his fingers splayed across her bump. "You are so beautiful, baby," he whispered in her ear.

Michonne shuddered as thoughts of his lips pressed there against her ear, then lower down her neck, between her breasts, and over the swell of her roundness...and even lower, crossed her wanton mind. She wanted those soft pink lips delving between her folds, parting her...circling her bud and kissing and teasing, torturing her into mindless ecstacy.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the cheery older man. "Okay y'all. On three. One...two...three," he said. "Say...cherry blossoms!" he cheerily exclaimed.

"Cherry Blossoms!" Rick and Michonne said in joyful harmony. Michonne's hands covered Rick's, and they swayed slightly in the breeze, the branches above swaying along with them. The older gentleman took a few more pictures of the couple laughing and giggling. Seconds later, he handed Rick's phone back to him.

"Thanks, sir," he said in appreciation. "What else you want to do? You tell me and it's done," Rick said in her ear when he walked away. Michonne looked back at him. At his pink, supple, tender, soft lips. She wanted him to do something for her between her legs. The thought made her shiver.

"Lets eat," Michonne said in the silkiest voice. She turned around and kissed his lips. _Goddd_ , those lips. She wanted them on her other lips. _Now_. Kissing and licking, gently sucking... _Stop it, Michonne._ She grew lustful for him as the day wore on.

Oh yes, she missed those lips.

…..

She couldn't stop smiling. She had thought about Rick's gift for nearly a year before she figured something out. Michonne remembered him telling her about wanting a pair of these when he was a kid.

"Cowboy boots!" Rick lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Neither he or Michonne could wipe the smiles off their faces. He began taking the soft tissue paper from inside of the boots, and held them closer for further inspection.

"I thought, 'what would be a better leather anniversary gift than some cowboy boots'," she said looking at him as he admire the brown leather boots. His hand ran over the fine stitch work on the sides of the boots, and he knocked on the bottom to see how hard they were. Rick looked at her and shook his head in disbelief.

"I can't believe you got me leather boots," he said still in awe. "These ain't cheap, Chonne."

Michonne quickly moved her hands, urging him to try the boots on. "Put them on. Let me see you in them."

Rick stepped into the boots, stomping his feet lightly, trying to break them in. He couldn't erase the lingering smile off his face. "You're the best, Chonne. Always will be. You know, I wanted to be a Cowboy and lasso up horses, rob banks...you know, the usual little boy stuff. This is an awesome gift. Thank you!" He liked that she remembered the little things. The little conversations that they had in passing. He appreciated Michonne so much.

Michonne beamed with pride. "I know they _ain't cheap_ , but you're worth it," she said as she sat in the chair. Rick smiled at her, combing his fingers through his curls.

"Guess it's time for your gift." Rick walked over to the closet and pulled out a small, flat box, wrapped in gold foil. He'd thought about this gift for her for some time, as well. The third anniversary was about leather. The strength of their union grew unbreakable like leather...it could get worn and start to change, but it's hard to destroy. Hard to damage. Hard to rip apart. He never wanted their love to break.

"I hope you like it," he said handing it to her. Michonne looked at the gift then up at him, playfully side-eyeing him.

"When have I ever gotten something from you that I didn't like?" She anxiously started to unwrap the gift like a kid at Christmas, and didn't quite know what to say when she laid her eyes upon the gift. A leather picture frame with several pennies were strategically lined inside, floating in space, sandwiched between two layers of glass.

"It's um...they represent important dates. This first penny…" he said bending in front of her. "... it represents the year we met. And this one is the day I proposed to you." He pointed to the second one...then the third...then the fourth. "This is the day we got married...and the day we had Carl. And when we have the new baby...what's that beautiful name we decided on?" His eyes danced with hers, awaiting the response he knew the answer to.

"Andre," she whispered out. Touched more than anything by his gift. Each penny had the years of their love printed on them. Memories etched and worn from time. This was special. It was special to her.

Rick smiled while nodding. "Yep. When Andre comes, we got space for that little booger and all the little boogers to come. All the important years. I know most people won't know what this means unless we tell them, and I like that. I like that our memories are encased in this glass, bound by leather...our love story there for our eyes only."

 _Oh, these hormones._ One minute she was horny, wanting to jump on top of him, and the next she wanted to weep in his arms from happiness. "Oh, Rick...Rick this is so beautiful. I love this." She tried to get out of her chair to hug him better, but he leaned closer to her instead.

"I love you, Chonne. Always have whether I knew it or not. I get excited for this weekend because of all the memories. All the joy and laughs and... _stuff and thangs_ that have happened in this room." Rick winked and kissed her lips again." It's our oasis. It's our room full of memories and they are the memories I want with you forever. The ones I want to keep making."

Michonne touched his face...a bit of stubble there from him not shaving the past two days. "I want to keep making memories with you, too," she said in tears, her voice breaking with every word spoken.

"I know you say I'm beautiful, Rick, but your soul...you...you're just as beautiful. I'm glad you harassed me that day at the conference." Michonne laughed as she thought about the memory.

"Me too." He said coking his eyebrows up and down. "Glad we had the mix up in room 2469 all those years ago." He grabbed her hand to help her stand. Michonne looked into his eyes and he thought his heart would melt right there. She was just too special to him. Too important, and he cared so much about his wife...about the mother of his children. Rick looked forward to this weekend, and he was glad they could make it. "Let's get ready for dinner."

He wiped the steady single tear that fell down her cheek away, and she looked up at him. "Good, cause I'm starving."

"Me too." He simply said, but his voice grew rough...sexier. That voice she had been dreaming about for awhile these past couple of days. He rubbed her knees in turn, while he looked at her, and Michonne got lost in the sea of his blue eyes.

 _Heat_. It was there. A presence that she wanted between them, hovering over them like the cherry blossoms from those tree branches. His gentle finger touched her lower lip and she wanted to spread her legs so he could touch her down there, too.

"I've missed our closeness...being around you...smelling you. I just missed you." Michonne searched his eyes for a second, her center throbbing from looking into the depth of his blue eyes; into the very soul of her soulmate.

He leaned forward and kissed her...his lips barely pressing hers. Rick softly sucked her bottom lip, then her top. "Feel the same way, Chonne," he said still tasting her lips. The bulge in his pants starting to become evident, and he tried to think of anything else to make it go away, but he was drowning in Michonne.

And he rubbed the rough pad of his thumb against her satin lips, tracing more heat there. Michonne somehow felt his fingers between her legs, even though they only grazed her mouth, reminding her of the distant memories of their lust.

Yes, she missed him a lot.

…...

"I like your red dress," he commented as she stood next to the chair. The place still had the same appearance as last year, except for new bedding, shams, and new curtains. The colors in a contemporary burgundy and gold, patterned with geometric shapes that she started to fall in love with all over. Michonne loved their tiny oasis.

"I had to buy a new one. This body wouldn't allow me to wear the ones that I own." The red bodycon dress hugged all of her curves in the most tempting of ways. Rick fought the urge to take her right there where she stood. Several times today she had this rapturous look. Like she wanted to rip each strand of his clothing off of him. And he wanted to rip that dress off her now.

But she definitely hadn't been in the mood for a while with her extreme morning sickness. Michonne lost so much weight from throwing up, and grew severely dehydrated that they had to visit the ER several times. Concern wouldn't even be the word to describe what he felt for her these past 5 months.

Rick didn't even think they were coming this year, but a few weeks ago she started to feel better. She started to eat again, and plump back up, her thickness evident in all those places his eyes lingered. _Her hips...her thighs...her breasts_. The rays of sunlight that used to emanate from her beamed bright once more and she had her glow return. The sight of her in that red dress...the swell of her stomach... _damn_...he couldn't help but get hard.

She walked behind the chair and leaned against the back of it for support."You'll help me with my heels? I shouldn't be wearing these things, but it's the first time I've felt cute in a long time," she said holding up her simple black pumps.

"You're always cute, princess." Rick walked up to her and took the shoes from her hand, bending to his knees to help Michonne put them on. A tinge of a smile crossed her face, as his hands touched her ankles. She put her hands on either of his shoulders to steady herself, lifting her foot up for him one at a time so he could slip her pumps o. She felt like Cinderella. A pregnant Cinderella, but a beautiful one nonetheless.

He kissed her belly, rubbing the small growing mound, and Michonne grinned ear to ear. _Her husband._ He had that cologne on, and a few months ago she wanted to kick him in his face for wearing it, but tonight all she wanted to do was take him and his scent in.

 _And his touch._ It had her dissolving…melting into a pool of liquid. Her head fell back...soft, long locs cascading back, and her breathing picked up in pace. Her fingers combed through his curls and she held onto a few strands. This sensation... _oh god_...his touch. She wanted it like she used to have it. All over her body. Over every supple inch of it.

"Your hands always feel good on me," she said slightly in awe, his gentle caress making her eyelids flutter slightly.

Rick also felt a jolt down his back; a shock of cool heat. Desire that pumped from his heart and _lower._ His hand lingered behind her leg, rubbing her silken skin there. How long had it been since he touched her? More than just helping her get up, or rubbing her feet for her. How long had it been since he kissed her on any place other than her plump lips? He knew it had been some months.

It had been sometime since he had done this. His lips pressed on her leg, sliding slowly up and down. He heard her moan, her protest of ecstasy and that only made him grab her leg, his rough, calloused hand sliding upward between her thighs, and higher.

"Rickkk," she stuttered out. _Air_. She needed air and more of it. Much more, but she needed his hands right where they were.

"I missed you," he breathily murmured. His lips sat just in front of her center, his nose breathing in her womanly scent. A scent that first drew him to her so long ago.

It was then she realized that she wasn't the only one who missed their intimacy. He needed her too and that thought made her shiver. A soft moan escaped her parted lips again.

She felt drunk off wine...off liquor, but hadn't tasted one ounce of the satisfying spirits. The only thing intoxicating her right now was her husband's hands massaging the inside of her thigh; the slide of his fingers there. They way his hands started to move her panties to the side and touch her lightly, her warmth slick and coating his fingers, causing an inferno between the two of them.

"You've been so patient." Her hands moved to the back of his head and she pushed him closer to her pussy. Rick rubbed his face back and forth, relishing in the feel of just being close to her again. Of smelling her...he wanted a taste. His hands palmed her ass and he held her even his face there, her red dress an unwelcome barrier between them.

And he had been patient, resorting to taking care of his needs when he had some privacy, but he always thought of her. "Michonne," he groaned out, his dick pressing against the fabric of his boxers, trapped inside of his pants, nearly struggling...aching to be let out. The need. The desire. _God._

His hands slid her tight, red dress further up, so that she was exposed. His face, moving closer and closer until he was between her legs, inhaling the scent of her. "Damn, baby, I missed you." And he kissed her there, where the soft curls of her womanhood nestled. Her fingers ran through his hair and she felt like she was drifting. She knew her body was in room 2469, but her mind was elsewhere. She pushed him away, standing straight and turned around, pulling the back of her dress up even higher.

"Fuck me, Rick," she cried out, almost begging. Rick quickly stood, wanting her in a desperate way. He unzipped his pants, pulling out his throbbing cock out, rubbing it on her smooth ass. He grunted some...animalistic urges beginning to take over.

 _Gentle_. God he had to be gentle. Nothing could be rough about this, but the sight of her ass...rounder from all of the weight she started to pick up…. _jesus_. He lightly smacked it. _Gentle,_ he silently warned himself. She bent over, extending her arms out to rest them on the back of the chair, bracing herself for him. Wanting him more than that air she needed to breathe.

"Fuck me, Rick. Fuck me now..." She begged...pleaded. She felt his warm hand rub all over her ass. Felt his dick slide between. Heard him groan again when he pressed himself against her, tempted to take her...desperate himself. "Nowwww…" she moaned again and Rick obliged, plunging deep inside of her.

" _Yessss_ ," she cried.

" _Oh, Chonne...oh, fuck...baby...this pussy...mmmm…I missed this pussy_ ," he grunted. His stroke getting faster. He had no control. Michonne clasped her hands on the back of the chair, bracing herself for his assault. She wanted him to lose himself in her. Michonne wanted to get lost.

"I missed this dick. Yes, Rick... _godddd_. Just like that. Yesss...deeper…"

Michonne surprised him with her aggressiveness, and Rick tried to be gentle, but she wanted it rough. She wanted him grabbing her titties. "Yessss," she groaned when he pulled the front of her dress down, her breasts spilling out. He squeezed her full, satiny breasts. His lips wanted to taste her dark tips, but he couldn't more. Didn't want to think about leaving that wet pussy.

"Yes, baby...Oh, Rick just like that... _harder_ …" and he pumped deeper into her, still trying not to hurt her, taking note of her condition, but somehow they were both mindless. Nearly six months of not experiencing pleasure like this...he just couldn't think.

"Harder," she said again, screaming it. "Harder, baby," she pleaded, so wet, she could feel herself dripping all over.

 _Wet._ She was so wet. He slipped in and out of her, her juices coating him all over. He could feel her...all of her slickness, and her didn't want it to stop.

"Ohhhh, that pussy is so wet for you...you feel that wet pussy," Michonne said between her moans. Rick smacked her ass, harder than he wanted, and she just moaned. _She couldn't say shit like that when he was in this deep._ It could have been the first time again, it felt so good to them both.

He felt her growing tighter...heard her moans getting louder. He missed that sound more than anything, her blissful moans. He was so lost. So, so lost in Michonne.

And she was lost. She gripped the back of the chair, trying to hold on but somehow she felt her legs start to tense up. The room started to fade to black and she had to close her eyes. Her clit started to throb, and Rick whispered in her ear. "Cum on this dick, baby."

And her mind shattered...it broke. Time slowed and stop and they were just there in that room combusting into fire. "Rick...I'm so sensitive...God..just like...oh god baby...oh..oh..ohhhh," she moaned out. Michonne screamed and it almost scared her. She went still and tensed up, moaning his name over and over. Her locs swaying as she rocked with him.

She was so wet, Rick nearly slipped out of her, but he didn't, he held onto her hips. Being gentle was completely out of the question. Her desire for him poured out of her lips in waves of moans. So soft...so wet. Her sweet voice. Damn...he missed this pussy; he missed her. Rick squeezed her hips, pumping inside of her faster...and faster.

"Oh, Chonne...I'm...goddd," and he poured inside of her. Both of them riding this wave of ecstasy. His legs shaking violently, sweat all over his face. He couldn't stop pumping inside of her. He hadn't came that hard in a long time. The room rocked back and forth and he held onto her tighter. Bliss was this. Being with her like this...as one. Their time apart, it was too long. _Jesus_.

He missed his wife.

…

Two trays sat on the table in the room. A half eaten steak and a few leafs of salad were the only remnants of their meal. They didn't leave the room, just decided to eat the hotel food and watch a movie. Cuddle and make love, as Rick slipped inside of her multiple times that night.

"You always gonna be there for me?" she asked holding his hand.

"Ain't that what we told each other?" He kissed her hand and placed it over his heart.

She nodded her head. "I'm always gonna be there for you." Michonne carefully turned around and face Rick, laying on her side placing her head on his chest...hearing his heartbeat for her. It was the most soothing sound she'd heard in a while.

Her locs splayed across his chest and he smoothed them back, enjoying caressing her like this. He breathed in and she exhaled. She exhaled and he breathed in until somehow, they breathed as one; they inhaled and exhaled as one. Her life was his and his was hers, and they grew new life between them. Somehow, he fell in love with every aspect of her and he thought about the past and their future. He enjoyed the memories of their past. He enjoyed the time they shared now, but their future was all he looked forward to. Michonne purred a little and he smoothed his hand up and down her back. Like every year, he couldn't wait for the next. He couldn't wait to spend his day...with his girl…

….in room 2469.


	7. Chapter 7

Year 7 brings you the gift that is **ComewithNattah's** special brand of angsty love. If you know her other works, you will know her singular talent of the painting a tapestry of loving hard and playing even harder is second to none.

Be sure to check out her other works on her FF page.

 **-We're The Ones Who Write**

* * *

The seventh year - fourth Anniversary

Rain was coming down in buckets outside when Rick trudged into the hotel from his car, looking like a wet dog. He felt worse than one, like a sick old stray left battered to the world. He simply wanted to shake and get out of the tortured headspace he'd been in on the way to the hotel.

He never should have said what he said. He wasn't snooping. He saw what he saw, but he never should have said what he said.

He'd been stabbed in the heart, though, with the smoothness of a katana's blade. It was a deathblow delivered without a ripple in the monotony of the morning, he'd barely noticed it at first.

….

That day started like any other- in a happy sort of chaos. Rick could hear Michonne chasing their toddler down the hall, trying to get his shoes on. Their oldest boy had an aversion to footwear and catching him to put on his sneakers was always the last ordeal of the morning. He left his wife to that conquest while he stood watch on Andre duty.

The baby boy sat, fully dressed in a tiny pair of khaki cargo pants and a boldly printed navy t-shirt, his big brown curls sitting like a halo on his head. The blanket he sat on in the middle of their bedroom was surrounded by noisy, blinking toys, all of which were taking turns being covered with the goo of his saliva. The little guy had only been a Grimes for six months, but he and Rick got along great. Even teething, he was a breeze. His father glanced at him, meeting his wide, dripping smile with an adoring chuckle.

"Hey buddy." Rick engaged the baby, "You hear your big brother givin' mama a hard time?" Andre's eyes brightened in response as his dad lifted the bottom of his white t-shirt and swiped deodorant under both arms. Michonne's phone sat on their dresser and the flash of a message called his attention to the screen.

He knew his wife was on a serious grind to catch up on cases after her maternity leave. She had also agreed to handle the annual conference presentations, chomping at the carrot of Negan's mention that she was his favorite and well on her way to becoming a partner quicker than anyone he'd ever seen. Rick didn't like that she had to put in double the amount of everyone's effort at work, determined to prove that being a mother of two would not make her less effective in the courtroom. Still, knowing Michonne's ambitions, her husband made an effort to support her fully and that meant re-adjusting his attitude on how much her work life spilled over into their home life. Rick was just about to tell her she had a new text as he went for a pair of socks. But his voice went dry when he cocked his head and read,

 **Good morning, beautiful**

His heartbeat seemed to slow but it's drubbing intensified as he snatched up her phone and the device read his fingerprint to unlock. There it was, big and blatant as a mushroom cloud. **Good morning, beautiful.** Someone, he looked at the sender's name: Michael Murray… was way out of pocket with his wife. It wasn't unusual for men to come on to Michonne. She was beautiful. Michael wasn't lying. For Rick, though, reading this as he stood in their bedroom, where he made love to her and where his son was playing innocently, was an intrusion that made his blood boil.

He looked back at Andre who was contentedly occupied as he scrolled up to see what else Michael had been saying to his wife. He saw six more early morning texts identical to the one he'd just come across. Other conversations read like-

8:34 Michonne: Lots of cream and lots of sugar

8:35 Michael: Sounds good to me

11:56 Michael: Can't take my eyes off you today.

12:34 Michonne: Please review the file again

4:17 Michael: I'm hitting a dead end with this. Do you mind staying late? I need you.

Rick pulled his hand over his face slowly depressing his toned chest with a sigh. He looked at Andre again. The baby's smile was gone and father and son looked at each other with the same suddenly doleful expression.

When Michonne came to the door smiling at Rick, summoning him to help her strap the boys in their carseats, he simply nodded and followed her with the baby in his arms. He kissed them all goodbye and watched them pull out of the driveway. Ten minutes later he realized he was standing in the same spot smothered by the thick bombardment of his agonizing thoughts.

He had thought they were happy. He thought his wife loved him. No, she did. He knew she did. He always felt that in her touch, in her kiss. He knew she did. But if she did, she hadn't informed this man at her job, apparently.

A shard of doubt about the mother of his precious children seemed to slice wildly at the idyllic family portrait in his mind and he teetered on the verge of a blinding migraine. Rick would have staked his life on the fact that his wife was incorruptible in her practice, but even more so in their marriage. She was not only dutiful, but a fierce defender of their family… of their love.

In the short threads of daily texts, Rick could see that Michonne gave her admirer no amenable responses. That made Rick somewhat hopeful. But nowhere did he read one line of refusal from his mate. Her lack of resistance explained his rival's persistence and Rick didn't know if hope, in the face of textual proof, could be sustained.

He knew Michonne was clever, wily even. He would never forget the weekend they met and her unflappable shrewdness in the face of the harsh badgering he and his colleagues put her through during her first go as a lead presenter. Her quickness and ability to pivot and turn the tables when she was pressed, always amazed and, honestly, intimidated him. He would often joke that he was glad she was on his side.

Rick had no doubt that she was smart enough to avoid texting anything that could make her seem at fault. But she didn't seem to care enough to delete the messages she was receiving, even though she knew he had access to her phone. Somehow that felt intentional, and it stung even more that she didn't care enough about his feelings to make sure that he never caught wind. He wondered what Michonne and Michael said to each other when they were face to face. He couldn't help putting on his investigative hat and questioning whether her late nights at work were really about work.

….

"Tell me about that new guy at your job." Rick asked her, trying to find his most civil tone. The tender tone he'd normally take with the love of his life faltered as he forced his way into a line of questioning. He broke into a nervous sweat as he felt his inability to be objective with the person he was closest to ramping up his aggression. He leaned against their dresser, watching her shuffle about the room gathering her last bit of essentials for her overnight trip to New York.

Michonne threw her plastic bagged toothbrush into her suitcase and raised a quizzical brow. "Who, Mike?"

"Yeah. He's goin' to New York with you for the conference, right?"

"Yeah, with me, Andrea and Aaron."

"So tell me about him."

Mike Murray had been with the firm going on two months. Working directly with her, learning the ins and outs of the agency. Michonne had mentioned the new hire to her husband and his name was often deposited here and there in her tales of lawyering, but it had never set off any alarms for Rick.

If he would have had reservations about any of the guys she worked with, Negan's name would have been at the top of the list. But Rick knew his wife couldn't stand the man- and not the kind of dislike that throws you for a loop and then turns to love after a hotel mix up. Michonne despised the managing partner, often referring to him as a "jackal in pinstripes".

Now, Rick was racking his brain trying to access a mental transcript of her many courtroom tales in which her male coworker was referenced. But the blankness of his recollection proved that he wasn't absorbing anything she'd shared with him over the past few months.

He had been preoccupied with his work as a liason, coordinating with DC Police for the upcoming Cherry Blossom Festival. He had been trying to keep the construction of their new home on track. He never knew when he had those blueprints drawn up that providing her with the home of her dreams would turn out to be a nightmare. One step forward in construction would somehow result in two steps back. When he factored in the strain he'd been under picking up the slack at home because of the demands she faced at work, he saw now that he should've been paying his wife more attention.

He knew that most men in his situation would expect a pass, with all they had going on as a couple. But he didn't ever want to be "most men" when it came to Michonne. And yet, in spite of that conscious decision to be an extraordinary husband, he was feeling like most men would as he waited for his wife to fill him in on the details of her connection to Michael Murray.

"You want me to tell you about Mike? For what?" She chuckled, genuinely confused by his sudden curiosity.

"What's funny about that Michonne? You don't wanna tell me about 'em?" He asked exhibiting a little frustration. It was like she was making him the butt of an inside joke and the feeling it gave him was one he never thought he'd have with the woman who always made him smile. "Why? Is he a secret?"

Rick was trying to ease into a civilized conversation about this, but he was failing miserably. Without much calculating, Michonne realized that her husband must have seen the texts on her phone. She went quiet to study his reaction. And Rick went quiet as well when he saw recognition on Michonne's face- that she knew what he knew. Her guilty expression was an instant blow to his already floundering heart.

"What do you want me to say, Rick?" she finally spoke up after what seemed like an entire season. A season where life began to wither. A season that would leave them in a bleak and barren landscape. "If you listened to anything I say, you could compile an entire dossier on Mike Murray. He's a young buck trying to navigate the real world." She began a run down of the things about him that Rick should know from her recently lopsided conversations with him. "He's studying to take the bar. He's ambitious... he's saved Andrea's ass multiple times. He makes a decent cup of coffee. He's the only black guy at the firm…"

"And he can't take his eyes off of you, right?" Michonne's list was interrupted by Rick's unexpected contribution. Her mouth immediately closed and he repeated himself, nearly out of breath from the effort it took to expose her, "He can't take his eyes off you… which means he can see."

"So, he has a crush." Michonne shrugged. "I don't give him the time of day."

Rick continued as though she hadn't said anything, "He's not blind. Right, Michonne? Which means he can see that ring on your finger. But maybe you're blind?" He suggested over the cracking of his mournful voice. "Maybe you didn't see those texts he's been sending you every day. Maybe I need _my_ eyes checked… because I didn't see any texts from you telling him to stop…"

She could not abide his obvious disappointment in her, justified or not, when she'd been immersed in her own silent disappointment with him for months. Her emotions boiled over. "And I haven't seen one text from you in months telling me that I'm beautiful or that you're thinking about me during the day! We can check your texts right now! " She screamed back at him and then quieted, "You used to... "

Rick lost his voice, ashamed that she was right. He had promised her when Carl was born that no matter how things changed, he would always make sure she knew how beautiful she was. He promised her he'd always prove how much he loved her, that they were still a "we", still an "us". It was obvious he hadn't kept that promise. He didn't need to read through the texts between he and his wife to see that their positions at home had depreciated from devoted lovers to the overworked operations managers of their family.

He could fix that and he would. But there was no way in hell he was going to send her off to an overnight trip with a guy trying to take his place.

"Don't go to New York."

"What?"

"Don't go to New York… get somebody to fill in for you."

"I have to go, Rick. I'm the senior associate…"

"Look," he said taking one long stride away from the dresser toward her, "this conference is already stealin' one of our nights at the hotel."

"Sometimes we can't do the whole weekend. You said that was okay. It's not like we're _not_ doing it this year. I'm still meeting you there." She softened her voice, "I would never miss our weekend for anything."

Again he bulldozed over her words, finding little meaning to them now, "I don't like it, how much you're gone... But I'm used to it. Your job is always stealin' you away. I know we gotta make sacrifices as a family… as a couple… but this is one thang I won't sacrifice." Michonne scoffed, but Rick was heading toward a foolish ultimatum. He reached out on a gentle grasp of her arms to ensure her full attention and it worked as her eyes whipped back and forth between his own in anticipation for what he was about to say. "If you love me you wont go… Michonne…"

She snatched away from him in disbelief. "I can't _not_ go! At the last minute? Negan would have my head." She hyperbolized. "This conference is more important than the ones we've had in Alexandria and he hand picked me to do this… I'd be dumping everything on Andrea if I don't go…" She understood that maybe he felt a little threatened. The knowledge that her actions finally mattered to him again, _that he saw her_ , gave her a warmness that she felt wrong for feeling, but asking her to skip the conference was ridiculous. "What do you think, Rick?" A dry, incredulous laugh prefaced the glibness to follow, "Do you think I'm going to go to New York and fuck this guy? You think I would do that?"

Mike was a nice guy. In a firm where there were 40 employees and only 4 were black, Michonne couldn't deny that he was somewhat of a comfort to talk to. Them working so closely together, her being his mentor of sorts, had made it easy for him to develop feelings for her. Not to mention she was just a gorgeous, intelligent woman. But his infatuation with her was where any impulsiveness stopped.

"I don't know what to think Michonne." He took a step back from her then as his gaze fell to the plush carpet under their feet. "I didn't think you'd entertain this guy at all. I woulda put my life on that… our sons..." An accusation was poorly stitched between the lines of his words.

"Rick…look at me." His eyes fell on her then fell away as if the sight of her were a gruesome crime scene. She swallowed, nervously readying herself to give him a chance to change the doomed direction of this conversation. "You really think I would..."

"You've done it before…" His words took a nosedive into the cesspool soup that was made up of her passive aggressive indiscretions mixed with his scars from past betrayals, guilt and insecurities, all simmering on the heat of a hectic life.

The whitecaps of his insinuation swept over his wife leaving her aghast and stifling her sobs while spilling a flash of tears. She couldn't believe he would throw their first time together back in her face. She couldn't comprehend a scenario where her husband would use their magnetic attraction to each other, all those years ago, as a weapon against her. She squinted to filter some of the affliction in his storm blue eyes and nodded her head reflexively, surrendering weakly to his implications.

Michonne could not release another word through the convulsive cries bubbling up and pushing past her resolve. She closed and zipped her luggage as Rick offered a hollow, tepid retraction. She went downstairs to wait in the dark for Andrea to pick her up.

Stubbornly, Rick sat on their bed behind his line in the sand. The house was eerily quiet as their boys slept in their beds unaware of the turmoil breaking over seven years of love. Mr. and Mrs. Grimes' hearts pinged like a dull chisel against the hardened walls of guilt heavy on both their chests.

Ten minutes later Rick heard the single beep of Andrea's horn followed by the slow quiet shut of their front door. He stood pacing and wringing his hands to his chest. Michonne did not say goodbye.

….

Rick awoke in the mid-afternoon.

Last night, when he hadn't heard a word from his wife, his anger turned to worry. He couldn't sleep thinking of all manner of tragedies that could befall them, effectively making their last conversation their _final_ conversation. He bit the bullet and texted Andrea after his texts to Michonne went unanswered and her friend confirmed that they'd arrived safely to their destination.

After one night alone in the hotel room where they celebrated so many milestones, he was keenly aware that staying there any longer would simply be torture. This was where he proposed. This was where she had trusted him to breakthrough her disillusioned self-image after she gave him his first son. This was where she'd jumped his bones without mercy while she carried their second. This room served as an actual marker to the most cherished events on their shared timeline.

He knew there had been plenty of opportunities for her to get in touch with him if she wanted to. Seeing the time, he knew her presentations were over. If she was still too pissed to text or call, he knew she wouldn't make the effort to come to him. He knew she would be eager to get back home to the boys. So he cut his losses and rolled out of bed on an amble to the shower where he could think of a way to make it alright again.

In his restless state last night, he went a bit stir crazy and decided to defy the rain, walking the streets of Alexandria. He passed the courtyard where he'd been jealous of her dancing with Aaron and, even in his mood, he had to laugh at how his officer's intuition failed him completely in reading that situation. He passed the empty restaurant where he'd enjoyed the burn of a particularly good scotch, but his reminiscing kept drifting to the heat of the sweet honey Michonne served him the next morning. And now he saw the light from an open sign in the row of dark storefronts and he obeyed his impulse to get her another anniversary gift to go along with the peach tree he had planted on his grandparents gifted land. He entered the establishment and flipped through a catalog in search of something worthy of her name.

Rick had become even more certain of the fundamental truths in his life. The most important truth was that he loved Michonne more than anything. His pride, his fears, his sanity- all paled in comparison to the torch of love he carried for her, a blaze he would never put down. He realized that regardless of their mistakes, they shared one heart. He counted his blessings, that seven years in, this was their first big fight and it was nothing knot they tied could never be undone.

He had thought they had the perfect marriage. But on further reflection, so many things considered perfect are fragile, teetering on collapse. But their kind of perfection was real. He had the epiphany that their Garden of Eden had weathered a natural disaster. The more he thought about it, the more he realized this was a chance to make them stronger, to get a tighter grasp on their changing needs and adapt accordingly. It was time to rebuild.

Now, he stepped out of the shower and wiped the fog from the mirror, dripping like he'd been when he arrived in the rain yesterday. But today, he could look himself in the eye, feeling less like a stray. He was invigorated and anxious to get home to see her face, but there was also a caveat of sadness that their tradition of a yearly romantic rendezvous had been broken.

Rick made a few deft passes over his chest and hair with the thick cotton towel, then wrapped it around his waist to leave the humidity of the bathroom. He draped another towel around his neck hanging over the width of his chest. Grabbing a handful of his toiletries to pack, he opened the door to the sight of his wife in the swivel chair across the room.

Her black trench coat was still decorated with the glimmer of droplets of rain as she sat, shoulders slumped pulling nervously at her thumb. The clouds in the roiling sky outside added to the gloom the drawn curtains created. The soft white glow of light from the bathroom's fluorescent bulbs framed his tall stature in the threshold. He regretted the darkness that gave him comfort in her absence as the flawless motif of her garnet eyes was veiled in the shadowy room. He flipped the light switch on the wall next to him. She looked up at him and a low rumble of thunder seemed to shake the walls from within. Rick stood fixed in his place by the desperation in her voice,

"Rick, please, let me talk." she said putting up a palm to shield herself from any resentments she thought he might still be nursing. "I was wrong not to put Mike in his place. That's on me 100%. I don't even know what I was thinking. Looking back, it's like an out of body experience. But I want you to know that _nothing_ ever happened between us. Really. I never said one word to him that I would take back… it's the things I should have told him…" She sniffled and wiped her tears with her fingertips. "I did tell him, before the conference, that our relationship is and always will be a professional one. He knows that I mean it." She said strongly. "He doesn't want an issue with HR and he apologized for his behavior."

A smile crept to Rick's lips. This was his wife. She was back. This was the woman he never doubted. He could just imagine the stern tone she took with Mike as she laid down the law and took a stand for their love and their future.

"Michonne…" he stepped forward, needing to console her as she burst into tears.

"How can I ever apologize for _my_ behavior?" She held her face in her hands as he knelt before her, rubbing the side of her thigh through the light suede fabric of her dress. "I would never hurt you, Rick. I love you so much."

He pulled her hands from her face with a determined grip, "Look at me, Michonne." he demanded gruffly. "Whatever you regret as my wife are my failings as your husband. I gave him that opening. I was neglectful of your heart. I always promised you it would never be that way between us and I let you down." He spoke softly now, nuzzling his face to hers and he squeezed hard at the space just above her hip bone to emphasize his point. "I'm so sorry, baby."

Rick kissed her. It was just a brief touch to her plump lips, just a breeze from the hurricane to come.

"I need you, Rick." She kissed him back hungrily, the soapy scent of his skin filling her nostrils with almond and sandalwood. "I only want you." she assured him between the roaming movements of their tongues. "I belong to you… always."

"Always, baby." Rick knew that, no matter what the story was between her and Mike. Michonne belonged to him as much as his own skin did. He stood up pulling her out of her chair. He had to feel her body pressed against him. He had to feel her in his arms, where she was supposed to be. "Always."

He pushed her thin overcoat away from the smooth skin of her shoulders and it dropped to the floor at her bare feet. He looked down at her, the low simple scoop neck of her deep red midi length dress gave him a view that made his mouth water. On measured bites and kisses to her neck, he expertly found the side zipper and pulled the garment away trying not to rip one of his favorites the way his burly hands often could. She placed her arms on the towel around his neck as he gathered her up, now in her red and black rose patterned thong and push up bra, resting her thick cheeks in his dominating clutch.

The jostling of her thighs around his waist loosened the tuck of his towel there and he lost it as he made his way to the bed. His whopping cock was tickled pink, happy to be free and wrapped in the caress of her soft fingers as she reached behind and under her to feel the power of the champion set to enter the ring and batter her walls to a TKO.

Laying her down on the bed, Rick hovered over her on the brace of his ropy arms. Michonne splayed her fingers across his chest, still so addicted to the feel of him after all these years. She moved the towel away to see his broad upper body, when her hand grazed the gauze taped to his chest.

"What's this?" she gasped, sitting up a little to examine the bandage, "What happened, Rick? Were you hurt?"

"I'm okay." Rick looked down, remembering the dressing his wife was eyeing with concern then went right back to feeding on her supple skin. He rolled his hips, pressing her clit with his erection, King County rolling off his tongue, vibrating the surface of her neck as he spoke into her ear, "This is for you, Princess. Flowers for anniversary number four."

"For me?" She had no clue what he could mean. "What is it?"

He pulled away from her and stared into her eyes. "Peel it off and see."

Following his instructions, she uncovered the protected spot over his heart to find a shiny patch of skin boasting his first and only tattoo. The scrolling calligraphy spelled her name below a large, black blossoming rose flanked by two smaller ones. It was gorgeous and sleek against his creamy complexion.

Michonne took it in. The reference to her and their children was not lost on her. She couldn't believe he'd committed to such a permanent gesture after the blow up they'd had. "It's beautiful, Rick." she said as her voice crackled with emotion. I can't believe… after everything…"

He kissed her lips to stop her from saying anything else. "After everythang, I still love you. That'll never change." Rick promised, releasing her breasts from the cups of her bra and savoring the taste of her stiffened nipples, pressing them between his lips and circling them with his warm wet tongue. "How much I want you…" he pulled her thong to the side and pushed into her with a passive grind and a drowsy declaration, "How much I need you, that'll never change."

"I need you too, Rick." she told him through a breathy moan as he filled her up, causing her to arch her back and spread her knees wider to accommodate him.

"I need to work this wet pussy, baby." he hissed, charging past the eager grip of her inner walls. "I wanna feel you break apart, Michonne. I wanna see you cry for this dick…" he went deeper, banging against her with a resolute force, "C'mon, Princess. Tell me that's what you want."

"Yes…" she managed, pulling him closer for another absorbing attack of his lips. "That's what I want."

The sound of her asking for everything he wanted to give her made him groan as he quickened his pace, growing harder inside her. Her toes stretched along with her walls and her juices wet up his balls as they smacked against her ass. "I wanna make you scream." he confessed, his breathing intensifying with every knocking thrust.

"Ah… ah… ah… unh! Unh!"

Knowing exactly how to achieve his goal, he pulled out of her and flipped her over. Pulling her to the edge of the bed on all fours, he stood behind her, ready to go.

Michonne winced when her husband smacked her ass while she backed it up on his slippery dick, begging with her winding hips to feel him again. He tweaked her nipple as he wrapped an arm around her, sliding his hand down to rub her tingling nexus of nerves until her legs shook and she saw stars behind the hoods of her eyes.

She held her position with one hand and reached between her legs trying desperately to guide him back inside her but he knocked her hand away,

"Say you want it like that, Michonne."

She only whimpered and tried again, but he pushed her hand out of reach. He leaned over her body with her disobedient wrist in a vice grip, grounded to the mattress

"Say it." he growled letting her breast go in favor of a fistful of her locs.

"Oh, God! I want it like that!" she answered him frantically and he entered her again, resuming his punishing labor. "Please make me, daddy! Make me scream… make me… make me… make me..." she chanted mindlessly completely lost in her lust.

Rick grabbed her face ,he firmly squeezed her cheeks with one hand, holding her hip in the other. He put three of his fingers in her mouth, stretching her mouth open, sliding along her pearly white teeth, slipping over her tongue, while she sucked her essence from his digits. She moaned at the taste of her sex, sticky on his fingers as he made another announcement into her ear. "I wanna hear you scream my name when l beat this cream outta you. You hear me?" He pulled his fingers wet from her mouth and went back to play at her clit.

"Yes, Rick. Yes." Michonne agreed as he squeezed and pummeled her body inside and out. He kept going, stoking her deep enough to make her hum from the pleasure and run from the pain. Directing her hips back on his bone hard shaft over and over again, he heard it, "Riiiiiiiick!" she heaved out on a shrilly breath as she fell into the deep end of desire. Her husband took the same numbing dive a heartbeat later.

Landing on her stomach after falling from the stratosphere, she turned on her side and wiggled into Rick's freshly inked chest as he cuddled up beside her.

"You want your gift now? It's over on the table." She told him still trying to normalize her breathing.

"No. It ain't." He curled his damp body around hers and rocked her through his next words, "My gift is right here in my arms."


	8. Chapter 8

We were so lucky to have the raw talent of this special lady on this team. thematsaidwelcome79 can whip up Richonne in any scenario and create such a dynamic connection between them, there's no doubt they are meant to be in her stories.

Be sure to check out her other works on her FF page.

 **We're The Ones Who Write**

* * *

Chapter 8

The eighth year - The fifth anniversary

"Hope you don't mind, I booked the room for the whole weekend. It'll be nice right? Just the two of us, just us and this room and that bed over there." Michonne stood in front of Rick and placed her hands on his shoulders then moved them up to his neck before running her fingers through the hair at his nape. She could tell that he wasn't entirely sold on the idea, but he circled her waist with his arms and kissed her lips to indulge her anyway.

"Yeah that'll be great." He rasped out flatly.

"You hungry? We can go out or order room service. That place with the steaks you like isn't too far from here." She knew he hadn't eaten yet, she had been rushing around since she got off work to get them packed and out the door. The thick Friday evening traffic put a hitch in their send off, making them have to leave two hours later than she wanted to.

"You know, that sounds pretty good, but I really don't feel like going out anywhere especially since we're already here in the room." He turned and walked to the chair that was beside the side table near the window, he toed off his boots and huffed out a breath in frustration. Not with his wife, she wasn't doing anything other than being the amazing wife that she always is. He was frustrated with himself for not being able to shake the funk that he'd been in since being out on leave from his injury at work. It had been a long four weeks and he had two more to go before he could get back to light duty. He was going stir crazy sitting around. He had fixed and repaired any and everything that he could around the house in the first week and a half. Since then he's just been sitting around feeling sorry for himself, not knowing what to do without clocking in everyday. Michonne could see that he was drifting deeper into a bad place and did all that she could to make sure he didn't go too far to not be able to come out of it. She made sure he didn't have to lift a finger, she ran around keeping the house clean, keeping the kids clothed and fed, getting them to daycare on time and making sure Rick knew how much she loved him, all of that and she was never late for work once. Michonne inhaled deeply and smoothed her hands down her red anniversary dress. It was new, bought just for this occasion, a tradition like the hotel room. She wasn't sure if he had even noticed the cherry red sleeveless dress that hung slightly passed her knees with criss cross straps in the back. He usually made a big fuss about how she looked, but today even with her hair pinned up to show off her neck, he hadn't said anything.

"You know what. You sit and relax, I'll go and get it and we can eat here." She plastered on a smile and turned to leave out the door. This wasn't her idea of a romantic anniversary weekend at all. She wanted to spend it alone with Rick, not standing in a to go line at a steakhouse, but Rick was making things difficult and she needed the time apart to get her mind right, give herself the pep talk that she needed to lift his spirits. Her mission was to get her husband to know his worth, no matter what she had to do, so she stood there in line with a bunch of strangers waiting for Rick's steak to be grilled medium well. It took over an hour for her to get back to the hotel and when she returned to the room, Rick was still sitting in the same chair except now he was nursing a drink of some sort of brown liquor.

"I told you you didn't have to go." He took a slow sip of his drink, clearing his throat when the burn hit it. "Seems like a lot of trouble for just a steak."

"Well we have to eat Rick, and you're never any trouble. Besides, I'm not gonna starve you on our anniversary. Come sit at the table, I got those cheesy potatoes you like and the bacon Brussels sprouts." He reluctantly followed her to the table, taking notice of the way her dress hung from her body and the way her hips swayed as she stepped in her strappy black heels. She started unbagging the food and Rick looked down at himself and his faded black jeans and white button down shirt. He didn't look half as good as she did, he hardly ever did, but at least in the past he'd tried, this year he threw on the first clothes he touched that matched. His hair was too long and his beard was too bushy, he hadn't shaved since before his accident. Michonne never complained or asked him to get his shit together. He always thought he didn't deserve her and tonight was proving that he didn't.

"Alright." Rick stood at the table and she placed his food in front of him and put hers where she would be sitting, then threw all the bags in the trash.

"You want me to refresh your drink?" Rick just nodded his head yes and then watched Michonne make her way to the opened bottle at the side table, she brought it back and poured two fingers worth in his glass. He quickly went to her seat to pull out her chair before she had to do it herself. It was the least he could do. "Thank you."

"This looks really good Michonne." He was trying, but that funk was still pretty thick.

"Yeah, I hope they made it the way you like. It was kind of loud in there, so I hope they heard me right." Michonne smiled watching Rick start to eat his meal. They ate in silence, listening to the crunch of steamed vegetables and soft chews of cooked to perfection meats. After fifteen minutes of silence and sly glances to each other Michonne took a sip of water and spoke. "It's quieter this year. Remember that first year, with the convention, there were people everywhere."

"Yeah, yeah there were. I think they've moved it to a bigger hotel because of that."

"That's good. So they'll be less chance for people to piss off strangers they just meet at a bar."

"Too bad for those strangers." Rick replied with the slightest of smiles.

"You know after your therapy session next week maybe we can try that new Thai place that's across the street. If you're up for it."

"Yeah maybe." He exhaled. "I really hate going to those sessions though."

"I know Rick, but it's almost over. You'll be back to work soon."

"Light duty Michonne." It came out sharper and louder than he intended. "That's not exactly back to work." He pushed his food away from him and took a big gulp of his drink. Michonne closed her eyes and took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, what she thought were two steps forward just took a giant leap back.

"Are you finished?" Without waiting for an answer she stood up and started clearing the table of the half eaten food. He could see the change in her. She had given up trying. "I'll just throw these away." He stared beyond her at the wall and the mirror that hung there as she worked to get rid of the remnants of their meal. He watched her drop it in the trash then she brought her hand to her forehead and ran a finger over her eyebrow, her shoulders slouched and she took another deep breath; her tell tale sign of frustration and stress. But just as quickly as the gesture was made, she lifted her head and straightened her shoulders, not wanting to throw in the towel on him. She walked and removed a pamphlet from her purse. "I picked this up on my way back to the room. They've got all these spa services now." She stood behind him and ran her fingers through his hair. "They've got facials and couples massages. You want to try something? They even use those rocks." She looked down at his dark brown hair, the waves and curls now sprinkled with grey, hoping he'd say yes, but expecting a no.

"I'd rather not have some stranger rubbing on me. It's bad enough having the physical therapist touching on me every week."

"Okay Rick. We don't have to do that. Here." She handed him the remote from the dresser. "Find a movie, I'm gonna go take a shower." With a look into her eyes he saw the surrender, the succumbing of her efforts, her white flag was waving. She had talked about this weekend for weeks even before his injury. She was so excited. Five years they'd been married, she'd given him two beautiful boys and an even more beautiful life. She was the one who made the reservation, packed their bags and even drove to the hotel, excited to spend time with him away from the kids. She talked the whole way there, effectively holding a one sided conversation while he sulked in the passenger seat. She did all of that because she loved him and the look in her eyes now crushed him. She tried to walk away but was caught by a hand on her wrist stopping her.

"Princess." She didn't pull away, but she didn't look at him either.

"Rick, I'm trying. I'm out of ideas, I'm out of the energy it takes to try and pull you up from the low that you've sunk into. I can't do it by myself anymore. If you're not gonna meet me halfway, then watch a movie while I go take a shower." He pulled her down to him and she was sitting on his lap with her back to him. She looked at the floor, then looked at his hand on her thigh, then felt his forehead rest between her shoulder blades.

"I know you're trying. I know. I see everything you're doing. I appreciate everything, but I don't know how to come out of this. Not working has done a number on my head. Not being in uniform everyday has me questioning the man I am. If I can't be the man I want to be, how can I be the husband you need me to be? A father to the boys? They're supposed to look up to me. How do they look up to me when I'm like this, bruised and broken?" She took hold of his hand that rested on her thigh and squeezed it.

"Rick." She turned so she could see his face. "You've never been anything less than the man that I need. I just want that sparkle in your eyes again. The boys love you no matter what, you'll always be a hero to them. Haven't you seen it, no matter how much I do for them, they scream daddy when you come through the door from your therapy sessions." That got a smile out of him, because he knew how much that must rile her up, to be doing all the work and him get all the glory. "That's what makes you smile?"

"I'm sorry, I know how much you must hate that."

"I don't hate it, It's adorable. All three of you hugging at the door, is the sweetest thing. The three of you make me so happy. I just want you to be in a place where you can share that with me."

"I've really been fucking up lately. I'm sorry Michonne. You went through all this trouble for this weekend and it's supposed to be about us and I'm making it about me and how I'm feeling sorry for myself."

"If it's about you, then it's about me, Rick. I didn't fall in love with the Sheriff's Deputy, I fell in love with you. Just you. Nothing's gonna change that. When I vowed to love you for better or worse, I meant that." She touched his injured shoulder. "In sickness and in health, I meant that. I probably should have added excessive facial hair or shaven to our vows too."

"You don't like the beard?"

"You look like a mountain man and I love every single hair on your body."

"You're too good to me."

"You deserve all the good that I can give you."

"Stand up."

"What? I was just getting comfortable."

"Let me see this dress. Every Time I've looked at you tonight, you've been moving. Let me see it." She stood in front of him and smiled shyly down at him while his eyes took in the deep red polish on her toes and the sexy strappy heels on her feet. Her toned calves and the smooth fabric of the red dress she wore, no doubt high end, nothing but the best for her. He stood from the chair and grabbed her hand, holding it above her head, to turn her. He loved the delicate criss cross straps on the back and the way the fabric clung to her perfectly round backside. She completed the turn and was facing Rick again. "It's beautiful, like always. Red is definitely your color."

"You say that every year."

"And I mean it. Every year." He pulled her close, placing his hand at the small of her back to press her into him. "Dance with your mountain man."

"There's no music Rick."

"We don't need any, we make enough music just being together." She melted in his arms, feeling strong and relieved that he seemed to be coming out of his funk and joining her on their anniversary weekend, she'd missed being this close to him lately. He maneuvered them around in a simple box step, aware of his socked feet and her open toed shoes. He pulled the pins from her hair because although the style was cute, he knew the pins were hurting her head. She sighed feeling relief then laid her head on his chest and took a deep breath, one of many that she had taken that night, but this one was different. This one was a cleansing breath that made her smile as she inhaled his scent and listened to his heart beat against her ear.

"I love you Rick."

"For reasons that sometimes I don't understand, you love me. You love me despite my faults and you love me through the hard times. Thank you for that."

"You do the same for me. You've done the same for me, Rick. The only thing I know how to do is love you through it."

"And because of that, I'm gonna spend the rest of my life loving you the same way that you love me. I want you to stop worrying about me."

"Rick."

"I'm serious Michonne." He led her to the bed and sat her down. "Give me your foot." He pulled off her left shoe and then her right. "Just lay here with me." He climbed on the bed with her, and she willingly turned her body into him, being wrapped up in his arms was where she had longed to be for weeks, but he hadn't been ready. Now being in her warmth he knew that this was what he needed, he was just too stubborn and too prideful to realize it. She had gone out of her way to help him, to make his life easier and he never acknowledged it or thanked her for it until now. She worried herself worrying about him worrying and now all he wanted was for her to ease her mind and know that she didn't do all that work in vain. She had loved him through it, and he was going to prove to her and himself that he can come out of this stronger and be a better husband and father. "Let's just lay here. I don't want you doing anything else tonight." Feeling her in his arms, he knew she was tired, she had to be. She was doing her job and picking up his slack. He just wanted to ease her worried mind and just lay.

"Just lay." She said and he felt her sigh and they lay there together listening to each other breath. He knew she fallen asleep when she felt heavier in his arms. He hated to do it, but he gently moved from her to turn off the light and turn down the bed, so she wouldn't get cold. He joined her back in the bed and he allowed sleep to take him, for the first time in weeks, they both slept peacefully.

Michonne woke with a sharp inhale, not sure if she was dreaming or if the wet kisses she felt between her thighs were real. Grabbing a handful of damp curls, made her think that it was, but leaning up on her elbows to see the top of her husband's head, verified just how real things were. She tried to say his name, must it only came out as a whispy whisper.

"Mornin" He muffled against her, not breaking from the unfluctuating pace he set in order to wake her up from her sleep.

"Oh god Rick." She found her voice and he sped up causing her to fall back to the bed grabbing the sheets this time as she felt his thumb circling her clit and then his tongue slip past her entrance in order to coax out an orgasm with soft determined strokes to her wet walls. "Shit." It was the only thing that her mind could think to say as she heard Rick's moans as he alternated between licking and sucking on her pussy, all while trying to see if his tongue could go deeper in their fifth year of marriage than it did in their fourth. "Don't stop." Her voice was shaky and he knew she was close. Her scent and the tightening of her legs around his head told him as much. He doubled his efforts and slid two fingers inside her and began to pump in and out. With his other hand he captured her clit between his fingers and gilded them up and down applying just the right amount of pressure to cause her legs to twitch every so often. The final nail was his tongue darting over her exposed clit whenever his fingers gilded back. Michonne used her hand to hold his head in place as she was hit with the most amazing waves of satisfaction that coursed through her body.. Over and over again. Rick stopped his ministrations with his hands, but kept his tongue working, slowly, only slowing down as she came down from her high. "Holy shit, Rick." She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing as he made his way from under the sheets to look at her. When she opened her eyes she was shocked to see his face. "Where's my mountain man?"

"I shaved it off while you were sleeping." He smiled and she could see his whole face, and it just got better as he got closer to her. When he was close enough she placed both her hands on his face, still a little wet from her.

"You're beautiful." She kissed his lips, those pretty pink lips of his, that she was able to see clearly now that he was clean shaven. She noticed he was naked, probably still from his earlier shower "I'm still wearing my dress."

"Yeah, you fell asleep last night and I didn't want to wake you trying to figure out how to take the thing off. I didn't notice any zippers when we were dancing."

"It's over here on the side." She reached and unzipped the dress, pulling it off above her head.

"That's better." He said taking in the sight of her without her clothes.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep. Some anniversary huh?"

"We've got the whole weekend remember. Besides, you were tired. It takes a lot of energy to take care of me, you needed the rest."

"I didn't even get to give you the gift I bought. We just ate and went to bed like a couple of old people."

"You wanna do it now before breakfast?"

"Yes I do. You know this is one of my favorite parts."

"Alright then, go get it." He layed back on the pillow placing his arm behind his head, waiting for her to get out of the bed so that he could watch her make her way to her purse to grab the gift she bought for him. She hopped out of bed, putting an extra stomp in her step since he was looking.

"You watching me?"

"You know I am. I have to say that after all this time, watching your ass jiggle never gets old."

"Don't try and sweet talk me now." She took extra care to search her purse, slowly moving things around , bending over to look into it, even though she didn't have to. When she pulled out the small white box, Rick was intrigued by what she could have gotten him that would fit in that sized box. When she turned around, Rick was sitting up in the bed, with his back to the headboard holding a box of his own and looking rather smug about it.

"You thought I wouldn't get you anythang?"He asked her noticing her slightly surprised expression.

"I wasn't sure. You know it doesn't matter, but I wasn't sure." She looked down at the floor and pressed her toe into the carpet.

"Get over here Michonne so I can give you this gift that took me forever to find." She smiled and started towards him.

"Did you remember the rules?" She asked him standing at the side of the bed.

"Yes. Fifth year anniversary is wood. I searched high and low for a wooden gift that I thought you might like. I came this close to just getting you a bundle of firewood." He pulled the sheet back so she could return to the bed, gesturing for her to take her place on his lap. She raised her eyebrows and bite her bottom lip in question, so he gestured with his head for her to sit. With both knees on either side of his hips, she settled into him, making sure his dick was snug between both of their bellies.

"That box is way too small for logs, so I take it you finally found something."

"I did." He placed a hand on her thigh, squeezing it a bit before trying to move his hand hand up a little. Michonne stopped him with her hand on his.

"Nope. We have to get this done first." Rick moved his hips slightly brushing her center with his hardness. He watched her eyes flutter closed. "Focus Rick." He did it once more and she moaned quietly. "You first. Open yours first." She was clutching the box trying to find her bearings.

"You gonna hand me the box?" She nodded her head and handed the box to him with shaky hands. He opened it and looked at the contents and then back at Michonne. He took out the small square description tag and started to read it, but Michonne took it from him and read it outloud too, excited for him to see it.

"Please enjoy your handcrafted folding pocket knife crafted from the finest black walnut trees in Georgia." Rick picked up the fancy knife, nicer than any he'd ever owned or even been brave enough to touch. The handle was made of Black Walnut and the woodgrain showed beautifully under the matte stain. He opened the blade and saw wood grain etched throughout the four inch stainless steel blade.

"You got this from Georgia?"

"Yeah, look." She turned it over and pointed to the handle and the small oval plate attached to the end. "I had your initials engraved on it. Do you like it?

"I love it." He placed a kiss on her lips. "I didn't expect anything so nice. Thank you."

"You're welcome. You're always complaining that your old one as well, old so I thought I'd upgrade it to something a little sleeker. Plus I think you can almost smell Georgia when you put it to your nose." He lifted the knife to his nose and inhaled while he handed her the box he had for her. She opened it as he smiled from the smell of black walnut and also her gasp in reaction to his gift.

"You like it?"

"Rick it's gorgeous." She lifted the Silver wood grain cuff from the box and slipped it on her wrist then ran her fingers over the texture on the surface. "It's so pretty." She held her hand out and up, trying to see the light catch it from different angles.

"It looks good on you." The deep sound of his voice filled with lust after having her against his cock for so long. He held her hand and brought it to his lip and placed a sweet kiss on her palm. His dick twitched against her belly and she lifted up enough to allow him to slip into her hot pussy. She whimpered against his moan as she slid down on him, guided by his hands on her hips. "You're always so wet." She went slow, kissing him while she used her hips to spell out all the ways she loved him. She was halfway through her list when he got impatient, and helped her along by gripping her hips tighter and moving her up and down on his dick.

"So impatient." She started to feel a tingle in her toes that crept up to her knees. Everytime her pussy slammed down on him, brought her that much closer.

"I'll accept that. I just want to feel you cum." His breathing was labored feeling her grow wetter and start to tighten around him. "Shit Michonne, you feel so good. You better hurry up or I'm gonna finish before you. Your pussy got this dick so hard. You know you feel this hard dick. You better cum on it." His hand on her waist moved up to fist her hair and pull her head back exposing her neck to him. He kissed and licked her warm smooth skin as he made his way to her nipples that were hard and waiting just for his mouth. The licking and suck had her arching her back and moving faster on him, the sound of her wetness bounced off the walls and she reached out to brace herself on the headboard knowing that she was about to be wrecked with an orgam so strong she'd probably still feel it next week.

"Rick... Fuck... Oh shit!" Her body shuddered and shook in the most delicious way. Her head was spinning and her heart was racing. Rick kept her moving the feel of her pulsating pussy like an invitation for him to cum hard and deep within her. She could feel him getting harder and his thrusts more determined. They worked in harmony to get him there and with a few final strokes he was bathing the walls of her pussy with his hot sticky cum, grunting and biting at her shoulder as he emptied himself. Both breathless and sweaty, they took a few moments before moving or speaking, not sure if either of them could.

"Damn Michonne, you can have a bracelet everyday if it'll end up like this."

"You mean, hot and wet and sweaty?"

"And happy. I love you."

"I love you too."

"Happy anniversary Michonne."


	9. Chapter 9

Year 9 is written by one of the strongest new writers in the fandom, **mattismommy aka** **winterscorp** , who already has us hooked on her adrenaline-pumping, fierce and sexy AOW fic "Vengeance"

Be sure to check out her FF page.

 **-We're The Ones Who Write**

* * *

 **The 9th year** **: 6th anniversary**

 _God he never shuts up,_ Michonne thought as she half listened to the senior partner Negan expound on her many virtues while simultaneously giving himself every pat on the back for having the…

"Progressive foresight and vision for grasping this extraordinary woman from the depths of obscurity…"

 _Obscurity? I was Magna cum laude and the youngest editor and the first Black Woman President for the Harvard Law Review,_ Michonne could barely restrain her eye roll and maintained the polite smile frozen in place for just such occasions. All eyes were on _her_ after all. She wouldn't want to show her enormous disdain for the man at her very own announcement dinner. All of her hard work and Rick's unending support got her to where she was right now. Not _this self-righteous prick_ with his self-satisfied smirk and stupid off-color jokes who practically begged her to join the firm. Offering her an insane relocation package and sweetening her signing bonus to the ridiculous point of "Damn, that's a shitload of money, you better take that job". Not that the money was her driving force. Michonne loved the law. She loved the reasoning basis of justice and the thrill of the fight. Negan was actually lucky that he was working for a firm that had such a stellar reputation and was on the right side of history with a prestigious amount of wins litigated for some very high profile wrongful death suits.

"Without her assistance in the hard-won fight against the …"

 _Assistance… if this pompous ass don't take a seat… I was LEAD counsel on that case,_ Michonne was just about to lose the veneer of grace as she listened to this man take credit for most of her accomplishments when,

"Why the hell is he still talking," she felt Rick's whisper against her ear as she felt him caress her exposed shoulder, "and why is he talking about all the cases YOU won like they're his victories?"

"Oh baby, you made it," she let out a relieved sigh. She was so wrapped up in listening to Negan drone on that she hadn't realized that the empty seat next to her became occupied with her husband. Proof positive that the repellant man's speech "honoring" her at this, the pinnacle of her career to date, was having a negative effect on her state of mind. Whenever Rick was within 5 feet of her she would normally feel his presence. She didn't know if it was remnants of instinctual scent recognition bred from centuries of mate pheromone detection or that she was just that tuned into her husband's presence. She suspected the latter. Ever since first setting eyes on each other nearly 9 years ago they had been drawn to each other like magnets. Even when he pissed her off with his assumptions, way back when he thought she and Aaron were a thing, she still had to be near him… even if it was to take him down a peg or three. She smiled at the recollection as she saw Aaron and Sasha a few tables away from them. Sasha was barely holding in her contempt for the long-winded speech making, her eyes nearly rolling out of her head with every accomplishment Negan had embellished to make sure he had some positive part in Michonne's success. Aaron, clearly on his third highball, didn't even bother holding in his scoffs.

Rick smirked as he realized he wasn't the only proud member of Michonne's inner circle there to celebrate his Princess' rise to Queendom in her firm. The stature well deserved from her hard work, a test of both her business and personal acumen. This man was riling him up with his blustering but he knew it would soon be blessedly over and then they could _really_ celebrate. Not only her becoming the youngest partner in the firm's history, but equally important, the celebration of the day she did him the great honor of becoming _his_ partner. For better or worse, richer or poorer, till the end of the world. His partner for life.

A celebration he had been preparing for for the better part of the last two months. From convincing Aaron to convince this asshole to hold the annual Partners retreat at _their_ hotel, to many phone calls to the designer of Michonne's special gift, to successfully deterring his wife's inquisitive nature from getting the better of her and ruining the surprises he had in store for her… for them. Luckily his excuse of having to "wrap up some loose ends at the precinct" was plausible since they both were officers of the law and "I'm running late…" was the start of more than a few phone calls in their hectic lives. Especially now that they were working parents, "this one's gonna be quick, hard and dirty… that alright with you?" had also become a part of their repertoire. _But not tonight,_ Rick thought with a small smile as he continued to caress his wife bare shoulder.

"Of course, I made it Princess," Rick leaned in and gave her a light kiss on her sweet smelling neck in greeting, "I may have broken a few laws to get here…" another light kiss and slight lick from his tongue, she really smelled too good not to have a little taste, "but good thing I know an amazing lawyer," he ended his mild assault on her neck by adding a small bit of suction on the sweetest part behind her neck.

"Mmmm… baby, all eyes on us right now," Michonne quietly moaned and tried to keep the sanguine look on her face as she felt the air hit the moisture he had left on the side of her neck sending tingles up her spine and straight down to her core. Regretting having to make him stop, she was still very cognizant of the full room they were in. It just wouldn't look right if all of the principal partners and their frigid wives watched her melt into a puddle of her own juices, as Rick's mere touches were wont to do, right before her acceptance speech. She was known for always having her shit together in front of these people. Having to work twice as hard and be four times as smart to justify her place at the head table. As much as she needed his tongue on her neck, as well as other very important places on her body, there would be time enough for all of that later.

"You look too beautiful not to taste baby," Rick whispered, "Buuuut you're right. You're the boss tonight," giving her a waist squeeze before taking a look at his perfectly cooked steak.

"I'm the boss, hmm?" Michonne smirked slyly, "I like the sound of that."

"I knew you would," Rick replied with a sexy side glance and cut a sizeable piece of the juicy meat. _Little do you know baby,_ as he savored a succulent piece while thinking about what he hoped to be savoring later. And savor it he would, as he couldn't keep his hands from caressing every exposed bit of skin he could spy on his wife. He'd only seen her dress in it's garment bag at home when he ventured a peek before she left a couple of days prior for the retreat. Every year he thought she outdid herself with the signature red outfit to commemorate the occasion of their anniversary but this year … shit, he hadn't even seen it on her yet. From the fitted sleeveless bodice with plunging neckline to the flowing panels of the long skirt and _GOTDAMNIT…_ THAT SLIT that seemed to go straight up to heaven itself. Lord that high slit guaranteed hours of fun playtime and almost made Michonne late as Rick played one of his "Quick and dirty" cards that morning sending Michonne into her waiting car with a satisfied smile and slightly bow legged walk to match her husband's.

His hand had found her knee under his newest beloved slit and was making a ticklish pathway to his most cherished _actual_ slit as they both tried to continue the farce of listening to the never-ending speech. "C'mon _**Boss**_ **,** " his gravelly whisper in her ear as he felt her thighs try to impede his progress by slowly closing on his travelling hand, "Open up for me just a little bit. Let me play… just a little," Michonne's thighs had a mind of their own as she felt them open up seemingly of their own volition. "That's it. Just a little bit more…" his thumb had found its destination and slid her thong to the side and ran down her already moist soft outer lips, "Yeah, that's it … I just want a little time before …" his thumb got to the hood of her slowly engorging clit and simply pressed, "you're the _**Boss**_. All. Night. Long," his thumb accentuating each point with a pressured circle on her bundle of nerves getting wetter and more swollen by the second.

Michonne could barely suppress a moan as she stared straight ahead, "Boss? All night long," She breathed out as quietly as she could.

"All. Night. Long," he continued his circular savagery. He wanted so bad to let his other fingers do the rest of the talking for him but now that Rick had her primed and ready with a hint of where their night was headed he didn't realize how much of an effect it would have on him. He was already half way hard the moment he walked in and saw his wife in all her resplendent red glory. But now, it was lucky there was a long table cloth hiding his now fully tented suit pants. He had been wound so tight in preparation for tonight that if he stuck even one digit into her warm canal, he would be in danger of exploding right at the table.

"They say excellence is forged at the crossroads of ingenuity and execution and we, gentlemen and wonderful little ladies have reached that crossroads with my beautiful protégé Mrs. Michonne Grimes," Negan did a sweeping gesture to finally bring Michonne to the podium. Rick immediately slid his fingers from their warm happy place in one smooth motion as Michonne stood with as much composure as a woman with a soaked thong could muster. Rick had to give it to her though, he had felt her starting to rhythmically push her hot center closer towards his index finger, she made her way to the podium with all the sleek grace of panther stalking her prey. He thought he could hear an almost audible "Whoa" ripple around various parts of the room as all eyes bore witness to the sleek goddess that was his sexy wife. If he was the jealous type… correction, if he was _still_ the jealous type of man he would have let his insecurities overtake him like he had a couple years ago, grabbed that long table cloth, wrapped her up from head to toe, and flung her over his shoulder caveman style, hollering: "she's mine". He had already spied Mike at another distant table clearly wrapped up in his date for the evening, and he already knew he had nothing to worry about from him. He didn't need any of those kinds of histrionics though. He knew who Michonne called home.

"Thank you, Negan for that _magnanimous_ introduction," Michonne started her speech receiving some well-deserved chuckles throughout the small crowd, "Even though there were many steps to climb to get to this point, I would be remiss without first giving thanks where they are truly deserved to my wonderful, supportive husband. Without him those long hours of _leading_ the charge in so many of the various trials we have, all together, worked on, would not have been possible for me."

 _That's my girl,_ Rick thought as he listened to Michonne give credit, where credit was due without diminishing anyone, herself included, for her meteoric rise within the firm. _Show 'em how it's done babe_ , as he looked on with pride shining through his crystal blue eyes. As she continued, he returned his attention to his steak, but not before he stuck his still moist thumb in his mouth to get every trace of her arousal from the invading digit.

"She is remarkable, our Michonne," Negan had sat back in his seat which was unfortunately on Rick's other side, "Almost as remarkable as that steak you seem to be enjoying." Rick didn't bother to disguise his sneer and was moments away from saying something equally vile when he realized that people were standing to applaud Michonne's end to her perfectly timed speech. He stood along with everyone else and heartily clapped for his wife with his back firmly turned away from the great offender. As he watched her work the crowd of well-wishers before making her way back to him, Rick was calculating the most appropriate time for them to slip away unnoticed. _I'm giving her 45 minutes, that should be more than enough time,_ he thought as he looked for Aaron to put the rest of his plan in motion.

Exactly 43 minutes later, Michonne felt a tap on her shoulder. She had done her best to speak to the major principles of her firm and even managed to share a commiserating toast with Sasha whilst looking around the room for her husband who she lost in the small crowd. Just as she was about to make a beeline back to their seats, Aaron, trusty as ever, followed his instructions to a tee and handed Michonne a small red envelope embossed with her name on it.

"Oh Aaron, this is so sweet," she exclaimed, "You're always so thoughtful."

"That's not from me," Aaron said with a mysterious wink, "I'm just the messenger," backing away as he grabbed Sasha for a spin on the dance floor. Michonne shook her head bemusedly and turned her attention back to the mysterious envelope. She broke the wax seal that had a "G" stamped on it and her smile grew as she knew exactly what the G in Grimes stood for. She pulled out the cream heavy stock card and swiftly made her way to the exit after reading two simple words written in the very familiar scrawl.

 _ **I'm Waiting.**_

"Well hot diggity dog Michonne, it looks like we've got us a proper balls to the wall shindig," Negan was stopped mid-drunken slur by Michonne's upheld hand as he made a shimmy lean toward her in hopes of getting her to "boogy woogy" with him.

 _Nope, not today Satan. Not today,_ Michonne had somewhere to be and she had had enough of this man's blustering underlying chauvinism for one night, "Negan, I think Morgan was looking for you." Negan's eyes went wide and immediately straightened his tie upon hearing that the most senior partner was possibly looking to engage him in conversation. The moment he looked around to his right, Michonne dipped to the left and made her way through the room and smoothly exited.

 _ **He was waiting.**_

###

 _Roses, with an underlying hint of… CHOCOLATE._ As Michonne stood outside the door with the number 2469 in bold writing at the top center trying to calm her tumultuous core, she smelled the familiar scents permeating through the heavy door. She could only imagine the amount of flowers and decadent treat it took to make the enticing aroma leak through but knowing her husband she wouldn't be surprised if she walked into room with a chocolate waterfall and veritable bushes of roses growing out of the plush carpet. Rick was always so good at romantic surprises. Never letting her forget that even though she may be a hard core, demanding attorney, she was still a woman. A sexy, loving woman who loved to be cherished and grand romantic gestures were always welcome surprises that never diminished her view of him as the man in her life. Ten times out of ten, she showed him just how much of a man she thought he was as she screamed his name as she wrapped her loving thighs around him, clenching around his very real manhood.

Times like right now, as she looked at the card again. "I'm waiting". She could almost hear his raspy voice in her ear and she ruined her thong panties just a little more with a small gush of wetness.

"Well wait no more," she whispered to the door as she inserted the hotel card into its slot to release the lock. She was almost right as she walked into the suite that was filled with every assortment of roses she could imagine. From the always classic deep red roses to the rare deep purple Amethyst star roses, to pink Parfait Roses… even pure white Venus roses. All set around the outer room of the suite leading to the center stage of a single table adorned with a chocolate fountain and a vase with a single rare Black Jade rose on the edge of bloom. Rick had thought of everything, and she could only wonder at the detective skills he honed trying to find such a rare variety that was the exact replica to the very rose that was forever inked over his heart. As she stepped closer in a dreamlike state she realized that every light was covered with sheer red scarves so everything had a warm glow. Rick's eye for detail was unparalleled, she thought as she approached the table to see that it was also occupied by two platters. One with the truffles she loved that she remembered from their honeymoon and the other with fresh ripe strawberries. Some already dipped in chocolate and waiting to be bitten into and others in a tantalizing pile waiting to be dipped into the bubbling fountain of creamy chocolate. Also on the table was a black rectangular gift box wrapped with a satin red ribbon. She ran her hand over the smooth finish of the box, letting her imagination run its course. Necklace? _Diamond_ necklace? Too small for lingerie but too big for a bracelet … who better to ask than the gift giver himself as she smirked and made her way to the bedroom.

She didn't need to guess which room of the 2 bedroom suite he was waiting in. It was always the one with the floor to ceiling windows and the best view. A view she appreciated many times since every year of their anniversary. A view she recalled not even seeing that one time he had her pressed against those very same windows, breasts and her face pleasantly squashed against the glass as he pressed himself into her from behind, hands intertwined and splayed against the cool surface. Their favorite room, where she now found him in nothing but his black boxer briefs sitting upright against the many plump pillows, one leg crooked under the other outstretched one in the middle of the king size bed with just his large erection to keep him company. An erection that he was slowly stroking like his favorite pet as he watched his wife enter the room under hooded lust filled eyes.

"Sorry to keep you waiting love," Michonne said quietly, with her smooth lowered voice. She bit her bottom lip as she watched his hand move slowly over his bulge.

"S'alright baby," Rick drawled, never letting up on his steady manipulation of his steel hard cock, "Tonight's your night."

She licked her lips, "Oh right, because I'm the boss tonight, right?"

"That's right," he replied, still softly stroking, "You're the boss… tonight. I see you haven't opened your present yet." Rick finally paused in his cock stroke as the anticipation of seeing her grasping onto her present was driving him to distraction. It just wouldn't do to have him blow his impending load before the games began.

"You're right," she said practically forgetting the box she was unconsciously stroking in time to his own. She slowly pulled the satin ribbon as she walked towards the side of the bed. Rick didn't move from his position in the middle of the bed afraid that the friction from the fabric of his underwear from even the slightest movement would cause an explosion. He watched her sit by his outstretched leg facing him as she peered into the open box. A range of emotions from confused to acute awareness to finally full blown sexy lust ran the gamut across her face. Her index finger ran across the four large iron links, each engraved with a different word. "Property" "Of" "Michonne" "Grimes" The links connecting two black fur lined red leather cuffs, each with their own word etched in black and a stitched silhouette of a woman's body in repose underneath. "BOSS" "LADY"

"Hmmm. Is this a gift for me… or for you," she finally looked up into her husband's eyes that had now darkened to the color of a stormy sea.

"It's for whoever you say it's for," he bit his bottom lip, "Because…"

"I'm the boss," she said as she gingerly took out the cuffs, "Well I guess my first action as boss," she swiftly straddled him, slowly grinding onto his woefully covered cock, "is to take charge." She took both of his hands and brought them above his head and almost chuckled to herself as this was a signature Rick Grimes move. Once they were above his head she proceeded to place each one into a cuff while Rick took advantage of that lovely v-neck exposing the skin between her breasts, giving it a long, slow lick.

"Ah ah ahhh… you got enough play time downstairs Mr. Grimes," she remonstrated him as she crawled backwards away from his hot tongue, "As a matter of fact, I think I'm going to have to give my first reprimand."

This was _exactly_ what he'd been waiting for since he'd started his research on the perfect gift for his newly anointed queen. He couldn't wait to see where she would take this. Not that their sex life was boring but even hot as fuck quickies couldn't quench the more adventurous thirst he knew they both had.

His queen in red turned slowly around and unzipped her dress, letting it fall with a whisper of sound to the floor. The tightness of the bodice left her without the need for a bra so she stood in the puddle of fabric with just her soaked panties. Panties that got more moist to the point of translucency as she felt Rick's steely gaze slide down her body.

"Reprimand? Is that so," he teased back.

"Yes. For the job you left unfinished," she slid her hand down between her breasts and slowly made the trip past her navel, and then to the lacy waistline of the thin material, "Looks like I'm just going to have to finish it myself," and dipped her hand into the front and found her swollen wet clit. She raised her other hand to her mouth and put her index finger in her mouth and gave it a slow lick. "Mmm… yeah, it feels like I'm definitely going to have make you watch..."

There was nary a peep of argument from him as she brought her moistened finger to her left nipple and made soft wet circles around the hardening nub, matching the circles with her other occupied hand on her engorged button.

"Fuck baby," Rick did NOT think this punishment fit the crime as he watched his wife pleasure herself right in front of his face. He could almost smell her over the chocolate and flowers and watched as a tasty looking bit of nectar escaped her and ran tantalizing down her leg. "I… I can finish my job."

Michonne did another turn to give Rick the perfect view of her phenomenal ass barely covered by the thin red material between the cheeks. He gave a loud groan as she hooked her fingers onto the sides and slowly bent bringing the sopping bit of cloth to the ground. He caught a glimpse of the pinkness between her thighs and brought his cuffed hands down from their elevated position and did his best as he could to draw out his hard, pulsing cock from his briefs. He was mid-shimmy to get them off when she turned and lifted an eyebrow.

"Mm, no I don't think you deserve to finish the job that way," she murmured as she sashayed to the end of the bed and spread his legs akimbo towards each corner of the bed, effectively halting his underwear removal process and leaving the top half of his dick exposed to all kinds of fresh _frictionless_ air. Rick was beginning to rethink his life choices as he watched her slow approach, coyly keeping her hips up and away from his straining manhood. It's like it sniffed it's home and was being denied out in the cold harsh outdoors. She placed her hands on each side of his hips and pulled in a gesture to make him lay straight down. Which he did hastily, perfectly understanding what he thought was coming.

"No… I think the boss deserves a little playtime herself," she continued her slow crawl until her pussy was now hovering above his face and he had a full view of her pink dripping canal. She did a slow wind above him, just out of his reach as she had maneuvered his hands back over his head and used the top of her knees to hold them in place.

Michonne was a _mean boss_ , Rick decided as he watched her vulva undulate over him surrounding his entire being with her scent. Her pink bud showing its head from under its hood looking like a chocolate dipped strawberry… and chocolate dipped strawberries were Rick's favorite kind of strawberry. Hell he had a whole damn platter of them just waiting outside this very room. If she would just… dip her hip… just a little… closer…

"Oh baby, do you see what you did to me," Michonne moaned as she relinquished one his hands only to torture him further by making him watch as she she dipped two fingers into pulsing canal. He gave a deep growl as he watched and heard the obscene wet sounds as they moved in and out of her.

"Boss,if you don't sit on my face right the fuck now," Rick said through clenched teeth, "I'm asking so very nicely."

Michonne couldn't take anymore reprimanding herself as her fingers were grazing that deep spot within her and she wanted nothing more than to feel his mouth on her. She acquiesced and lowered her throbbing center to his mouth. Rick needed no other guidance. Hell he didn't even need his hands that were still being held captured by his wife's toned thighs. He immediately went for his tasty strawberry and gave it his own special attention. After a few firm licks he got down to the business of using his plump pink lips and gave her clit a nice long sloppy suck.

"Chriiiiissst, Rick," was all Michonne could gasp out as she sat fully straight up to push her clit further into his mouth. Thankful for the release, his hands found her breasts and used his thumbs to strum each nipple as she ground down into his face. He was nearly breathless and his beard was now a sticky viscous mess as he moved his tongue savagely from her clit to her dripping entrance. She began a mild bounce as he used his tongue to do what his turgid cock wanted to do, tunneling into her pussy like a runaway train. His hips were pumping upward into… nothing but air but his dick didn't seem to care with pre-cum dribbling fast from its head.

"Fuck baby, I … need… I neeeeeeeddd…"

"What do you need baby," his mumbled response vibrating through her.

"I … need … your cock," she lifted her body up quickly and Rick didn't need her to say anymore. He brought his hand cuffed hands that had just enough give for him to grab her tiny waist and slam her down on his upright steel rod.

"Daaaaammmmnn," he was finally home. He pumped her hard and fast on his dick while she leaned forward to leave a scratch trail from her red nails on his chest. "It.. is .. yours" he met each word with a rough thrust, "My cock … is yours… baby. You're the boss of this cock!"

"Oh my god… Riiiicckk, " she screamed, "Mmmm… say it again!" Every nerve ending in her body was on fire, ready to explode.

He had no idea how he did it but one of his hands popped free from its restraint. He vaguely made a mental note to email the manufacturer about the quality of his gift, but once he was free he grabbed a handful of his wife's beautiful locs and pulled her head back roughly, exposing her neck. He gave it a light bite as he continued his assault on her pussy. He then moved his hand to her neck and brought her face close to his.

Staring deep into her coffee eyes he brought her down hard with his other hand, "My… cock… is yours."

"You. Are. The. Boss. Of this. Cock," he watched as she began to lose all semblance of control and her face beautifully contorted in ecstasy. He was right there with her as he bit his bottom lip. "You. Feel. Me." He had to make her scream just one more time probably letting the whole hotel know that she was indeed the fucking queen he always knew she was, "You feel your cock baby?"

"God yes, Rick , I feel it, "she screamed, her hands searching for purchase in his sweaty unruly curls.

"What do you feel baby? Tell me what do you feel?" he was about to release the mother of all loads but not before….

"MY COCK! I FEEL IT BABY! I'M THE BOSS OF THIS COOOOOOCC…" Michonne couldn't finish her sentence much less her thought as her vision blurred and she began to see stars. She began to twitch in her throes of passion and Rick had to hold on for dear life as he felt the powerful surge of his release deep inside her. She collapsed backwards bringing him toppling over her still inside her pulsing the remains of his load into her. With every jerk of his cock her body answered with a responding clench around him.

"Fuuucckk... baby," he panted out of breath, "that was…. I don't even know what to call that,'' as he buried his face into the crook of her neck licking at the same sweet smelling spot now lathered in a sheen of sweat. "How do you feel, baby?"

After a few gulps of air to catch her breath Michonne gave a long sigh, "It feels good to be the boss."


	10. Chapter 10

Sometimes a writer is so nice, they get asked to do it twice. And that's exactly how we feel about comewithnattah . She is back to close out this story with the 10th year in the life of Rick and Michonne.

Be sure to check out her other stories on her FF page.

 **-We're The Ones Who Write.**

* * *

 **The 10th year** - **Trying for a girl**

Michonne and Rick face-timed their boys to say goodnight.

Years went by like chapters in fiction and they were getting so big.

Carl was excited about practicing for his martial arts tournament in a few weeks. His parents counted themselves lucky to have found him an outlet for all his rambunctious energy. Michonne liked to blame his unruly behavior on Rick, but the truth was Carl was a pistol like her, never able to keep still, always ready to instigate, to tackle, conquer. While Andre was easy going like his dad. He was their little swimmer. Like water, always ready to adapt or go with the flow. Swim classes turned to swim meets and Michonne was proud to have two medal winning sons who took pride in their skill.

She liked her little ones' work ethic and determination. Rick liked to see them outdo their opponents, mainly because it got his wife worked up and he loved to hear her talk smack about their matches. Lucky for him she kept that kind of arrogant talk out of the boys hearing to ingrain a sense of humble sportsmanship in them. But when they were alone in their bedroom, after another trophy went up on the shelf, the thrill of victory almost always got him laid.

Michonne looked at Carl and his almond-colored skin and Andre, the color of a sweet pecan swirl. She fought back tears as she thought about how well her nutty little guys were turning out. How, if anything should ever happened to her, they would still be okay in the world. That thought crossed her mind more and more these days. In solitary moments she tried to focus on positives to stave off the creeping spectre of depression. Seeing her sons side by side, grinning in their PJs and telling her about their day was a good antidote for negative vibes.

Still, Michonne put on her serious face and told them not to give her good friend Maggie a hard time. She was so grateful that Maggie had agreed to watch the boys for the weekend, but Michonne knew her friend was a pushover. And Carl would definitely take advantage of that if he thought he could.

Michonne's mom was the usual babysitter for their annual weekend getaways. She had watched the boys last year and every year before. They moved into their dream home two years ago and, coupled with support from his wife, its completion gave Rick another reason to feel like the king of the world after his injury at work. Mrs. Fraser added her own touches to the mother-in-law suite they attached to the house. The convenience of having her mother there in the house with them was always a comfort to Michonne in her busy life. She knew without that support, she would have never made partner.

But her mother took none of the credit as she beamed the very next year, watching Michonne head off to her celebratory dinner and weekend. She just kept repeating how proud she was, how stunning Michonne looked, how lucky Rick was. But that was the last time she would sit for her grandsons. They were grateful for Maggie but she was no Judith Fraser.

When he got back to the room, Rick had been quick to strip down to his t-shirt and boxers in answer to the heatwave outside. Michonne's answer had been given all day in her lack of any underwear or bra, whatsoever. His back against the headboard, Michonne had settled between his legs, putting Rick in the phone's camera view as she laid against his chest. She remained in her red sundress that flounced around her thighs all day, but she did pop open the buttons at her bustline to make it easier for her crowded 'girls to breathe' and her husband noticed the sudden drop in oxygen in the room. But currently his mind was on the bedlam at his house.

"Talk about baptism by fire." Rick said in jest at Maggie's current woes as the video call ended with Maggie hollering for Carl to come back.

Michonne chuckled as she tossed her phone to the side, "You think she'll survive one more night?"

"You think you will?" Rick teased her ominously, as the vibration of his voice spread from her ear and into her spine making her squirm between his legs.

"Mmmm," she moaned in approval of his decadent timbre, "I think I've been keeping up. Been waiting for _you_ to recover, as I recall." Michonne painted on a version of Rick's southern drawl to mock him. " _Gimme ten minutes, princess_ …" she referenced the string he always attached to another round.

She paid dearly for the insult as her husband used his wiggling fingers on her ribs for a change. Thrashing away from the ticklish torment, she threw herself out of his arms and back onto the bed. He relentlessly chased her down, pinning her lower half to the mattress with his own.

Lately, as a marriage ebbs and flows, Rick and Michonne had been going at it like rabbits. It wasn't the novelty of a new lover, the excitement of a proposal or even the haywire hormones of pregnancy. Although, in the history making coordinates of the Sheraton's room 2469, they enjoyed each other over and over again unaware of the third little life _already_ nestled cozy and warm in the walls of Michonne's womb, too recently planted to be a factor in their desire.

Rick's simplest desire was to see his wife enraptured. He just wanted to erase the worry that kept building up between her brows whenever she thought about her mom. And she wanted him to... needed him to be inside her, making her forget about all the things that can be snatched away. She needed the distraction of his steadfast love, grinding her sorrow into oblivion.

She needed him.

You could have asked if she needed Rick months ago and she would have answered quickly and assertively yes. But she didn't know how much she needed him. It was cruel of life to teach her this way. But she still found herself thankful for the lesson. Grateful for the twining thread that would bind them closer together no matter how painful the stitch. She knew that like her mother's love would always follow her, so would Rick's.

Her mother gave her life, and many of her genetic proclivities. But Rick, her cherished and charming prince, her King, gave her _a life_.

 _The life_ she wanted.

Every rock they found in their garden, they used to make the foundation stronger. They found beauty in every weed and though it was impossible to keep the rain from falling, they both used the storms to grow and rejuvenate.

Her squealing laughter quickly dissipated as he slowed his assault to look at her. His beckoning blues traversed every lush silky slope and perfect rounded peak on her face.

"What?" she asked wondering what had suddenly changed the playful mood.

"You're a beautiful woman, Michonne." he answered her in a much more solemn tone. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on and I hate to see you in any pain." He whispered tenderly, needling the long stray locks falling across her shoulder, nuzzling his face into hers. "I need you to know that we're gonna be alright and get through this. You believe that don't you?"

The evening of dinner and a movie, a movie with no talking animals or magic, had been fun and carefree. The only disappointment was the IRS notice in front of Dale's gallery publicizing a lien and the confiscation of the property. But as soon as Michonne saw it she was on the phone with the best tax lawyer she knew, giving him info on the property and the mandate to fix this as a favor to her ASAP. The rest of the night had been happy inside jokes, teenage level flirting and tawdry episodes of PDA. She wasn't quite sure what was triggering his moment of introspection, now.

What Michonne was sure of is that, after ten years of making love to this man- feeling him blaze against her skin, gobble her down and break her apart- the intimacy of contemplative whispers during foreplay brought her a kind of erotic comfort. The words coming from their hearts made the nakedness of their bodies even more exposed, even more vulnerable. Being able to strip to the warm bursting aura of their souls, before evoking their white hot blinding release, ruined Michonne for sex with anyone other than Rick for the rest of her days.

His rough palms grazed her cheek on a path down her neck to rub his thumb in a lazy trail along her collarbone. She answered him with curious eyes. "Of course, I do. I wouldn't be able to keep it together if I didn't trust that." she said, nearly wincing at the strength of her conviction. She watched relief wash over his stubbly face as if he could have expected a different answer. But she knew Rick Grimes. Sometimes he just liked to hear the words come out of her mouth. So she gave him more, twirling one of his curls around her finger. "Mom said she stopped worrying about me after the day you kidnapped me from work at gunpoint."

Rick rolled his eyes as the clear memory of that day made him blush and trigger his crooked smile. "Wow. You have an active imagination… at gunpoint?"

"You were carrying your gun."

"But I never _pointed_ it." He stressed. "I was prepared to, though."

"Oh, trust me, I've never seen Negan shook like that." she giggled at the scene replaying in her mind, "Everybody knew you meant business.

"Well, you needed to rest. You were just gettin' over the flu, still weak…"

"I just needed to do one thing. I was only going to be in there an hour tops…"

"But I told you not to go _at all_." Rick interrupted her defense with the same Zeus-like thunder he used all those years ago. His hand was now in possession of one fully ripe breast over the thin red fabric of her skimpy dress, his thumb performing the same stroke over her tightening nipple that her collarbone had enjoyed.

"Well, Mom agreed with you." Michonne acknowledged as she closed her eyes and reflexively spread her legs a bit more. "Whenever I call her to complain about simple stuff, the first thing she asks is 'What does Rick think' or 'What did Rick say' or 'Tell Rick, he'll handle it'. And you always did." She said, opening her eyes again to pull him into her adoring garnet-colored gaze. "You always do."

Hearing her express her confidence in his job as a husband and father made him think about what he was trying to deliver for her in those roles. He knew it might be a little harder to make good on their plans this time around. "You know, if it doesn't happen nothin' changes. We can try all that fertility stuff… but if it doesn't take, nothin' 'tween us changes. We kinda fell off our schedule anyways when we found out about your mom. You're probably too stressed right now to add anything else to your plate."

Rick's pressed his palm lightly over her navel and as if he released a secret lever all her desire began to pool just below his pinky resting on the plump flesh of her mound. Her hips rolled on instinct and, though she was with him in his assessment of their situation, his touch already had her spellbound. She would have drunkenly bought into whatever his sexy small town twang was pitching.

They decided to try for another baby right after Michonne made partner. She had made it to the top tier and she wanted to enjoy the fruits of her labors. Michonne looked forward to making the big decisions without stressing over the minutiae of every moving part and spending more time with her guys. She wanted to experience a pregnancy unfettered by a lackey's deadlines.

"I know." She arched her back, exposing her neck and Rick followed her cues obediently. His soft, warm tongue moving slowly over the sensitive skin there. He ended each lick with the strong suction of his lips. She gasped when he bared his teeth over those same pulsing spots under her ear. "I'm not stressed though. I know we'll …" she gasped again when he crushed his heavy, rock hard cock directly onto her beating clit through the thin fabric he wore, " we'll... get there."

In tune to the pitch of her moans, Rick pulled away from her, cool and collected, guiding her dress up and over her head. She was completely naked before him. Her breasts bouncing free from the elastic ruching of her dress, her ready center still slick from his finger's exploration of her tight little pussy in the dark of the packed theater earlier. Her scent was still concentrated on his fingers and he'd found himself stealing shameless whiffs of them since the end credits.

"I'm still having dreams about her…"

"About your mom?" He asked, affection brimming in his articulation as he removed what little he wore.

Michonne shook her head in answer, "No. Your daughter."

"Tell me 'bout her." Rick encouraged, attentively... tenderly as he suckled one breast, then the other, hungrily. He enjoyed her sensitivity to the stinging sensation on her dark pebbled peeks and he smiled anticipating the subtle physical tells her body would soon exhibit. "The dream still the same?" Leaving listless bites beneath the underside of her pillowy dunes, he made his way lower.

"Yes." Michonne smiled happily. She kept having dreams of her holding a tiny baby girl in her arms. She was having it more frequently, lately. It always felt unearthly. The mother of two had only ever conceived twice- no real complications, no miscarriages. So she knew the baby in her dreams was no echo from a pregnancy past. Besides, she could feel this little girl was her future…

… as sure as she could feel Rick's fingers slowly parting her folds, slowly invading her slit, slowly pumping and massaging her innermost buried treasure. "She… mmm…" Michonne moaned when he slurped her bud between his lips, sparking her legs to tense instantly through involuntary motor response. Still, Rick kept a well-executed pace with his languidly skimming swirls over the pampered, hooded treat. He didn't want to steal her breath just yet.

He let her enjoy the measured passes of his tongue before reminding her to speak from his wet workstation below, "Tell me, princess."

"She... always... looks like you." Michonne mewed into the cool, dark room. "Even more… than Carl does."

"That aint fair." Rick said matter of factly, closing in on his mecca. "You dream about 'er tonight, you tell 'er, her daddy wants to meet 'er, too." Rough hands squeezed her deluxe, curvy thighs for emphasis.

"You're gonna meet her, Rick…" Michonne's breath hitched as her husband licked into her center, deeply on the very first drag through her candy coated entrance. She caught him by the hair now. "... Real soo… soon. I just have… a feeling." She crushed her lip between her teeth as a whimper seized her. Running out of words, her muddled moans replaced conversation as Rick's exacting tongue slipped quicker and harder inside. She ran headfirst into the height of pleasure, shattering, and sending a caressing wave of nectar over his tongue.

Rick moaned his approval as he continued to pull out every drop of her sweetness. "Oh, God." suddenly became all she could say and it fell from her lips a dozen times as he wiped his palm from nose to chin and settled over her jerking frame.

"Let's see if we can't get 'er here." He said with a tender resolution and a commanding glint in his eye as he finally took purchase of her silken, milky canal. Rick set to wind his muscled hips in a serpentine style that threatened to wear a groove into the firm mattress top. He drove her lower back deeper and deeper, drilling deeper and deeper. His raspy grunts went deeper and deeper. His stunning wife, so valued and cleaved to, swept him deeper and deeper into the padded room of her love where a stockpile of explosives lay, waiting for a madman to detonate.

Rick sighed powerfully over her name on a sinfully sweet stroke, "Michonne… I want to see another one of my children in your arms… so… bad. Just picturin' it makes me wanna cry." He said sweetly as he ravaged her walls like a beast ramming the bars of a cage. "But I'm already so grateful…" his eyes misted from all the emotion in the room, born of blessing and of burden. "I love you, princess… Always will."

"I love you, too, Rick."

Michonne pulled him closer when a tear speed away from her mesmerizing dark eyes and her husband watched it disappear like he knew any gloom on her heart would with a few more targeted thrusts. His back paid the price as his deliciously furious cock collided with the spot that had been a no man's land before him, her nails leaving crimson trails across his skin.

The tightening of her muscles nearly stopped his movement, but he knew this was not the time to slack up. It was the time to charge her gushing walls, tax her surging center and then hijack every single sparking synapse that God had put under his immediate control.

They both crashed over passion's highest cliff, out of their minds in love and into the decade-made ether of room 2469.


End file.
